Book 2 Chapter 139

Tuesday morning I did a VCATS with Jenny and Marcy. They were over the open Atlantic on their way to Thimble Shoals. They were carrying more gold and diamonds to the meeting to keep the accounts up to Marcy’s liking.

Andy, Vicky and Ching Lee were headed to Dubai then taking one of the Blackhawks to the Boxer. Andy had the military records for our ships’ captains for the Admiral to review if he wanted. I did a VCATS with Marcy and Lorrie, then settled into my day.

The Congressional leaders did as they said they would. The proposed bill was read into the record to be fast tracked. Yesterday the leaders promised they would have the bill on my desk for me to sign by the close of business on Friday.

I scheduled a 1600 meeting with the director of HUD – property, building specs and contractors were the discussion topic. I wasn’t going to get deeply involved in it; I had no time for that. I just wanted a brief overview of what to expect as things progressed.

I met with the joint chiefs. They were following up on Boko-haram. With thermal imagining satellites and a dozen more secret things they thought they were on the trail of the terrorist group. They knew they were on the trail after a dozen bodies of children from the last burned village was found fifty miles from the village in no-man’s land. Then a day later more were found twenty miles to the south east.

”Put a team on it, see what we come up with,” I said.

By putting a dedicated team on the assignment with the latest tools, more detailed information could be gathered quicker. With enough confirmed evidence a field team would be assigned or hired.

It could be Army Rangers, Navy Seals, or hired mercenaries in this case – in that area they would be JBG’s former Black Bear teams. Oh the conflicts of interest.

It was 1100 and about the time the shit hit the fan in Oregon at 0700.

The two hundred or so Humvees and six hundred troops crossed into Oregon at 0400 driving up Route Five north. At 0700 they drove the circle around the city hall of Eugene. Then they drove through several of the business streets including the main street that had the local TV station and newspaper building.

The streets were packed with onlookers and news people as they left, again headed north on Route Five to Salem.

In Salem – the state capital – they did the same thing again only staying longer while being more visible. One hundred Humvees stayed in Salem; some riding around, some parking in the parking lots by the capital.

When questioned by the media on what they were doing, the Commander of the group responded, ‘‘Waiting on final orders from Washington.”

The last one hundred went on to Portland and did the same thing, parking around city hall.

At 1200 the two Senators and the Representatives from Oregon were in the White House lobby demanding to see the President. I was in the cafeteria eating with my staff. We were rehashing Saturday at Vegas and Sunday’s appearance on the news show. The media reactions were still coming in.

I waited until I finished lunch before returning to the Oval Office. I was learning the perks of having power – making people wait who thought they were important.

Troy gave me a folder with a picture of the people waiting and their names and positions. It was an idea to keep informed so I would not look like an idiot when I met people and the pictures were a godsend, I was meeting a lot of people now.

”Good afternoon Senator Bears and Senator Higgs, Reps Dell, Dillingham and Goodman. What can do for you today?” I said.

”Could we make this a conference call meeting with the governor and his staff?” Senator Bears asked.

Troy made all the connections happen; apparently the group was waiting for the call. There was a round of introductions and hellos.

”There are troops in Eugene, Salem and Portland. The residents are worried and they want them to leave,” Governor Roseberry said.

”They are the advance teams – the rest of the troops are behind them. I have made no secret they were on the way. I have given you and the legislature plenty of time to correct the horrible homeless issue you have created. Your legislature didn’t even bother to open a debate,” I said.

”They and you have discussed many options for the last four years, always to run out of time at the end of the session. But they had plenty of time to create more parks and to change the name of Columbus Day and Thanksgiving with a full week of televised debate. Then they spent fourteen days to protest the proposed international port expansion on the border with Washington State,” I said.

That research group of mine was as nearly as good at political research as Robert was at intelligence.

”The courts ruled years ago that it was illegal for the police to hassle homeless on the streets when there were no homeless shelters to take them in. Yet your city, state and county police have done just that repeatedly, even going as far as carrying them across city and county lines. On top of that you have harassed the aid groups trying to give shelter,” I said.

”Then there is the conditions in the streets, the same as California; full of crap, needles, tents, cardboard boxes and more. The law abiding people of your state deserve better- the homeless deserve better,” I said.

“I promise you the next session we will seriously tackle the problem,” the governor said.

”Your promises aren’t worth the air it took the say them. You have broken your promises for years,” I said.

”You have two more days left in this session. I will give you one day to pass legislation committing one hundred million a year for the next five years to end the homeless mess you have made. Twenty five million is to be delivered to the HHS and FEMA within twenty four hours to erect emergency shelters, provide food and medical aid and to clean the streets.”

”The other seventy five million goes into a housing construction fund. This fund is to be administrated by HUD to immediately begin construction of permanent shelters and low income housing. The state and counties will waive all impact fees, permitting cost, planning and zoning restrictions for these projects,” I said.

”You are breaking my arm. I’m not sure you can do this,” Governor Hilltop said.

”You can ask Governor Bright. The cell next to his is for you.”

”The paperwork declaring martial law and a national emergency in Oregon and Washington was just delivered to my desk for my signature,” I said. An aide had just placed several folders on my desk.

”You have twenty four hours. You better make them the most productive hours of your lifetime,” I added.

We had more discussion before they left – very unhappy. I had the General sent a message to have the Oregon troops find hotels for the night, preferably all in one hotel so a watch could be assigned to keep an eye on the equipment.

With that past I had a staff meeting where we decided on the Supreme Court nominee Caroline Brady. Carol was a respected jurist from the federal Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals. Her record was spotless as was the background checks. She was married to her college sweetheart with two children.

Politically she was brought up by a conservative family. One brother was a state representative and the other brother was the Lt Governor. She had given speeches at the state party level several times.

I had a call put through to Caroline at the court house. She was in the court room unable to take a call until the end of the session at 1700. I left my number with her legal clerk with a simple note ”Call me ASAP BJ”.

I moved on to other things, I received a text from Vicky that the signings on the Boxer were nearly complete. They were waiting on the six boat captains to appear for interviews. Three of them were flying to the Boxer in a Blackhawk. The other three were coming in one of our fast ships.

”Thanks, keep me informed. BJ.”

Adam came in to work on the speech for Wednesday night. This time it was in Vermont, weather permitting. It only took an hour from the start to finish; we were starting to work well together.

It was nearly five thirty when Judge Brady called my White House phone. All calls are screened, even though they are going to private numbers. After a couple of questions and a quick phone trace, the call was put through.

”Judge Brady, it’s good to hear from you. I will keep it short and to the point. Your name is at the top of the short list of candidates for the vacant position on the Supreme Court. I would like to know if you are interested?” I said.

We talked for the most part of an hour and finished as I was sent notice that my supper was ready. I would have a government G5 plane at the Abe Lincoln Springfield Airport to pick the family up at 0800. Caroline was definitely interested in the position.

We would interview and talk during the day and make the announcement at 1600. Vice President Harrison would host a dinner and reception that evening for selected senators. Usually that meant heads of committees that had to have hearings on the appointment. It would be the usual meet, greet and get to know one another.

Caroline and family would stay at the presidential guest house that visiting dignitaries stayed at. It was fully staffed with services that rivaled even the best five star hotel but far better security and access to the limo fleet, if they wanted to see the evening sights around Washington.

I finished supper, chatted with my mates and the boys. Contracts had been signed with the Navy. Everyone was happy, well nearly happy but that was normal. I was going to spend the part of the weekend at home in my own bed – a change I was going to enjoy.

I finished out the evening in the fitness center with several agents working out and spotting the weights for me.
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Book 2 Chapter 138

Monday morning the big house was empty and felt empty. I was happy to get the mug of coffee and have the breakfast delivered to the Oval Office. It was already humming. I had left a note on my desk telling Troy what I wanted to do.

Today’s calendar was open with the exception of a few small items and I could take care of them on the flight to and from California. The Secret Service was upset – they did not have time to get the Beast out there.

It would be far better PR if I was shown riding in a Humvee for the TV cameras. I had ordered invitations sent by emails and cell phone texts to the ten Senators, ten Representatives and six department heads to be at the Capitol entrance at 0800 to catch the bus to Andrews to accompany me for an inspection of Camp Parks. The Air Force was already prepping Air Force One for the flight.

My staff were packing briefcases with the things we were going to discuss on the way. The White House news reporters from the news room were drawing numbers to see which four of them and a camera man were going, since they liked the lottery system so much. Melinda and Hanna were already told to be on the bus.

The other people going were the communications officers and the two individuals carrying the football and codes. They followed me everywhere.

General Wainwright was notified of our arrival time and to furnish transportation for approximately forty individuals. He was also to ask the other generals to join us.

Marine One carried me to Andrews; my staff were in the other helicopter. I was there before the bus arrived, sitting at my desk reading, with a mug of coffee.

Troy and I discussed the weekend and the media results. Everything in Washington revolved around media in one way or another. I really couldn’t care one way or the other, but I listened. He was excited about the numbers for the fundraiser and the sneak appearance on the Sunday news show.

Then we got down to business. First were the updates from Camp Parks. With the rioting over, those numbers were zero. The homeless pickups were down to a few hundred. We would get the actual numbers in the meetings there.

Then we discussed the Middle East with the generals, there were an unusual number of terrorist attacks. Some places there were more, some places there were less.

I intended to apply more pressure on the Russians and Chinese to work with us to eliminate the terrorist cells in Africa. The attacks were growing there.

I got an update on the progress by the Navy. Another carrier was scheduled for end of maintenance sea trials the end of this week and another by the end of next week.

The Air Force update was good news! Twenty one B21 bombers had been re-certified for flight again. They were out of service more than they were in service. That only left twenty more out of service.

The Air Force General and the manufacturer’s representatives kept saying these were just growing pains with new systems. I had heard that before from the Navy.

The first twenty were five years old and so far the Air Force hadn’t flown them across any oceans yet. I wondered – no confidence?

President Thomas had ordered the B52 to stay in service until there were ninety days of ninety five percent availability before any B52s were to be moved to storage. I continued that order, to the dismay of the generals.

The B52s were like the A10s – old and unwanted – as new wizard planes were talked about but were still the go-to planes day after day. Tough, reliable, hard as nails and easy to fly old school.

It was customary that all the media were each given 10 minutes with the President in the flying Oval Office. Who was I to break tradition? By the time I was finished, we were landing on the Camp Park runway.

The media was the first off the plane so they could record the arrival for tonight’s news. The generals met us with a salute for the cameras.

First up was a tour of the camp setup including the special tent that had been restricted to homeless families and women with children.

Luckily there were two dozen homeless picked up this morning. I suggested and the Congressional delegation agreed that they would each take one and follow them through the process. While that was going on I met with the generals and listened to how things were going on behind the scenes.

Connie was taking notes as the official decision was made to pull down the troop level in two days. I needed to make the decision in twenty four hours if they were going to Oregon. By the time we were finished, the Congressional people were back.

We loaded up in Humvees and headed into San Francisco to check out the damage and the general condition of the streets. With a state police escort we were carried through the main street of the sixty blocks that had riot damage. Then we went down the streets where many of the homeless were picked up off the streets.

The generals had clean-up going around the clock – even pressure washed twice after the trash was cleaned up – you could still smell the stench but the trash was gone, the crap and needles as well. I stopped the group and let all the Congress people get out and enjoy the aroma.

The next street they were taking us to – by my orders – was one that had not been touched yet and was really bad, according to the General.

We stopped and got out for another media event. I wanted the country to see firsthand the real reason my actions were necessary. It was also the reason I had pulled on rubber boots over my shoes. The media quickly got their fill with the piles of needles and piles of poop crawling with maggots – so many maggots, you could see the pile move.

Some of the Congressional people lost what food they had in their stomachs, some were dry heaving. The stench was as bad any place I had ever been, including third world countries.

Back at Camp Parks we held the customary news conference after the group went through the process of cleaning and disinfecting their shoes. I let the Congressional people speak first, giving descriptions of the process at the camp and what they had seen down town. Then I spoke to clarify various points.

I informed them that there would be a troop pull down at this site and reassignment. It was a fact that reassignment had started yesterday.

It was 1500 Pacific when we departed Camp Parks for Washington. I had the media group sequestered to the media area and went to meet with the Congressional group. The time to talk was now while the smell and the disgust was still fresh on their minds.

”I don’t know if you agree with what I did or not, but there is no doubt it was necessary. Let’s talk about a solution that you can rush through Congress.”

”One idea that I had was to put a billion dollars in a separate account at HHS to be used to build low income housing. Appoint an administrator at the federal level to keep local politics out of it.”

”We have all seen them – two and three bedroom apartments with cost based on the ability to pay, within reason. In this case the homeless we have picked up will have first options. Many of these people had jobs but the escalating taxes and fees simply killed them.”

”All the rent fees go back into the fund to keep building new apartments. The only thing that could be a problem is all the restrictions that are in effect, but I think the martial law can by pass them for now while the legal process can remove them.”

”We have to keep moving forward! I need your help with emergency legislation. I am asking you to fast track the funding request, one billion for the building and the military is going to need extra funding to defray the cost of all this,” I said.

”Starting tomorrow those that had jobs are going to have their cell phones returned so they can contact their employers to see if a job is still exist. Employment specialists are going to connect their skills with jobs. The process to help them help themselves is beginning,” I said.

By the time we landed in Washington there was a hand-written bill for emergency legislation that would be entered in both houses tomorrow.

Now to deal with Oregon. Army trucks would arrive there tomorrow. I was hoping they would spook the politicians into action. The FBI and DHS would start looking at the politicians tomorrow.

While we were in the air, one of the California Senators asked for an emergency federal injunction against the National Emergency declaration and the Martial Law order. The federal judge dismissed both injunction requests.

I was expecting a legal battle; that was the first hurdle. I expected the next would come from the California state employees unions. Under martial law union contracts were null and void. All that would come to a head when bids were sent out to build the housing.

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Book 2 Chapter 137

I was up early at 0600 – as had become custom. I dressed quietly and snuck to the kitchen for the first mug of coffee of the day. I headed to the Oval Office with a couple strips of bacon and the coffee to read the day’s updates.

Iran was still saber rattling with their exercises – no change there.

Admiral West had sent a thank you note to the Chief of Naval Operations that was forwarded to me thanking JBG for the excellent videos from the coastal patrol ships’ crews and the aircraft involved in the Tariq Sultan incident.

Also included was an acceptance of the offer to put six JBG coastal patrol ships at under his command for an estimated sixty days, until the Greek ship joined the assignment.

With the family now up and fed I decided to see if we could manipulate our way to into appearing on Sunday Morning America without a previous invitation. I was sure they would be glad to have me without the invitation given the entire news cycle since mid-week had been on the actions of my administration.

With Jason, Lisa, Jake, Mindy and my two little men, we would need eleven seats in the front row. The Secret Service and my JBG body guards agreed as long as it was kept relatively secret.

Having been there several times I knew how to get in and my way around. I sent a text to Arthur, ‘Save eleven seats in the front row. This visit has to remain top secret and a surprise or it will not happen.’ I would see if I could trust him.

Their advertised guests were Senator Jacobson a liberal and Senator Hart a staunch conservative and supporter of President Thomas. The other two guests were Representatives Mackey the liberal house minority leader and the House majority leader Richard Dawson. I was the last man out.

We waited until just ten minutes before air time. The agents went in first to clear the way and block the halls. Other agents followed in to view the live audience. I had the tech wire me up; makeup had been taken care of before I left the White House. I waited until after the announcer went through introducing the guests and gave them a few minutes of opening comments, then my family made their way to the front row seats and I walked from behind the curtain while pushing an office chair for me to sit in.

”Good morning, everyone,” I said.

”You did make it after all, I’m glad you did. I am sure we can come up with lots of questions,” Arthur said.

”The debate today is certainly going to be about California,” Arthur said.

”First off, the big question; how are the California martial law orders working out?” Candy asked.

”You are referring to operation ‘Sunshine’. Eighty thousand homeless have been moved to Camp Parks, they have had the opportunity to bathe, been issued new clean clothes, fed and are sleeping in hurricane recovery tents on cots, not on sidewalks. Those deemed to have mental issues or medical issues are being housed separately and medical teams are taking care of their needs.”

”Fifteen thousand rioters have been arrested and will be charged with a variety of federal crimes in force under martial law.”

”I question if you have the authority to order all these actions?” Senator Jacobson said.

”Of course you are referring to the Posse Comitatus Act that was passed after the Civil War to keep federal troops from policing the South. That limits federal troop deployment on U.S. soil and forbids using them to enforce domestic laws.”

”The act restricts troops from enforcing local or state laws. I ordered first a Natural Emergency because of the massive riots and then initiated Federal martial law. The troops are enforcing the laws that Congress wrote into the Martial Law act,” I said.

”Even though the Posse Comitatus Act has not been repealed, there are a variety of other laws that have had a major decreasing influence on its power.”

”During the great depression, laws were passed under Roosevelt that pulled the country out of the depression. Then there were the laws used to protect us from ourselves during WW2. Later on there was the race riots of the sixties and laws passed to maintain order. Then the cold war and more laws expanding powers of the President and the courts under a National Emergency. The same scenario repeated itself with the anti-war demonstrations of the seventies with more laws tweaked.”

”Then came 9-11 and more emergency statues were passed. Through all this came the ability to declare a National Emergency, giving the President a host of powers.”

“The War Powers Act and the Patriot Act gave the President even more emergency powers. Then came the pandemic of 2020 and unlimited power to the federal and local governments. All of these things together have made the restrictions of the Posse Comitatus Act nearly mute.”

”Back to the original question. I have not violated the Posse Comitatus Act because under my Martial Law order all the local police, sheriff’s departments and the state police are all working as they were before the order. They are reporting to their commanders following their orders. If there are questions, they have been instructed to ask for guidance,” I said.

”But why the roundup of the homeless? I can see the need to stop the rioting. And why put them in camps?” Candy asked.

”The streets are covered in feces, urine, used needles, blocked by homeless tents, card huts and other debris making the streets unsanitary and unsafe and in many cases, impassable. Serious infections and other diseases have been growing.”

”Short of putting them in your spare bedroom and living room, the camps are the best option for now,” I added.

”In a booming economy you have to ask why there are so many homeless. That is one question we are going to be asking a lot of them as we search for answers and then solutions to put into long term effect. Next week I am ordering a team from Housing and Urban Development and the DHS to go to California to find the answers so they can be implemented immediately.”

”One thing we do know, there is a terrible housing shortage and horrible property taxes for the poor and middle class, leading to the homelessness.”

”The planning and zoning laws have been written for the wealthy and powerful. Every low income housing development has been opposed for the last two decades by the politics of Hollywood and the politically connected.”

”Not one has been approved to completion for low income residents. The ones that were approved were regulated or opposed in the courts to the point they gave up. Or that the rents for a small one bedroom apartment is three thousand a month. That kills it for the low income and lower middle class.”

”An average two bedroom home – six hundred thousand, a three bedroom – eight hundred thousand is just totally insane, that is going to be changed. We are going to find ways to reduce the cost, and reduce the taxes.”

”Preliminary reports I am reading are telling me there needs to be two hundred thousand units of low income housing NOW to eliminate the crisis. There will be orders for HUD to get aggressive. I will ask Congress for the emergency funding necessary.”

”It’s intolerable to have thousands of Americans living in the streets. This is not the America I want us to be proud of. This is not the America I fought and lost blood for,” I said.

”I have to agree with most of what you have said here. I wish you luck,” Candy said.

”So there is no long term plan to keep them in camps?” David Young, the other panelist asked.
”Absolutely not, the politicians that took the bribes and peddled influence are going to spend a much longer time in jail,” I said.

”What state is going to be next?” Candy asked.

”Oregon. But there doesn’t have to be a next, they have the power to correct the issues themselves, they just have to act. The hourglass has only a few grains of sand left. We are preparing the move tomorrow while reducing troops in California,” I said.

”You spent yesterday in Vegas, from all appearances a very successful fundraiser for the party. The chants of eight more years was intended for the party benefit but are you sure there wasn’t more there?” Candy asked.

”To be President was never one of my ambitions and never in any of my dreams, yet here I am doing the job. I don’t know how history will judge my performance.”

”As for running for President – I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind in the last few days. There are plenty of people that want me to throw my hat into the ring.”

”The current candidates just don’t have the spark the public wants. My mates would make the final decision. Either way I have plenty to do and there is still plenty of time,” I said.

The hour was full of questions, answers and challenges. During the session I decided to make an inspection trip to California tomorrow. I would take the Senate and House leaders and select committee heads, health and human services, and those that ruled over the DHS.

I would put the Senators and Representatives minds and my own at ease as to how things were being run.

My mates were leaving after supper and I would be alone until Thursday. Jenny and Marcy had another meeting at Pirates Bank on Tuesday. Vicky and Ching Lee were going with Andy to the Middle East to meet with Admiral West to finalize the agreement that would put six of our fast ships under Navy control for ninety days.

The captains of our six ships were all Navy officers, so it should be a smooth transition. However, captains on the Boxer might feel slighted if they found out what we were paying ours.

The Navy was also sending an advance team to the dry dock at Mirbat. The advance team was carrying the special keel blocks and other equipment needed to block the USS Wilmington high and dry for repairs.

Most of the crew was going to bunk in the recently renovated housing. The base was originally able to house five hundred in fixed housing and one thousand more in Quonset huts, but the huts were long gone.

Andy had decided to renovate the complete facility and use it as a central location. With the OPEC group happy, they were discussing an expansion of the contract with Marcy and Vicky.
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Book 2 Chapter 136

Saturday morning NSA sent me the morning updates while we were eating breakfast. I assumed there was something I should look at. The thing that was highlighted was Iran – again.

They were up their old tricks again – now they were flying drones over the Strait of Hormuz. They were entitled to by a mutually agreed treaty that gave them air space rights that in places went to the center of the waterway.

They were testing the response to excursions over the lines. It was normal intelligence gathering – the cat and mouse that powers played against potential adversaries.

The Soviets and Chinese were experts at it. They routinely flew such flights against our Alaskan airspace. The Russian flew Backfire bombers gauging our response and at what point our fighters were dispatched to challenge them.

The Backfires were loaded with listening equipment instead of bombs to monitor radio communications between our bases and the fighters.

The Chinese were even braver or else stupid. They flew spy planes miles inside the South Korean airspace, repeatedly ignoring all orders to leave. They flew while listening to frantic calls between fighter jets and control.

Of course the South Koreans were afraid to shoot them down. The Chinese had no such problems; they even shot down a KAL passenger plane in the past for an intrusion.

It wasn’t up to me to order them shot down, that was up to the host country’s defense – unless there was a mutual defense treaty. We did have a limited agreement with Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Qatar and Kuwait. Our radar installations were to notify them if we saw anything but were to take no offensive action unless they came close to a US installations.

The host countries were to take military action against intruders. It sounded great on paper; in reality it sucked. Their chain of command for defensive action was just too long and too slow to be effective.

I expanded the shoot down security circle around all US installations for drones, aircraft and missiles. I also removed approval steps necessary to shoot down drones and missiles. Before it took six steps; I reduced it to three. Every step took time.

The motorcade that was carrying us to Andrews was waiting in front of the White House. The national security group brought a briefcase with more updates. I was going to read them on the way.

I wanted to be on the ground in Vegas around 1100. This was an afternoon and evening fund raiser. I wanted to walk the convention center and look at the displays before it was packed. I was wearing thin body armor, the Secret Service brought their approved armor and Ziva had brought the full JBG HD body armor. I was going to be well protected.

By the time we landed I was finished with the security updates and the JBG updates from my mates. We had not talked a lot last night about JBG things; we were just too glad to be together.

The security zone was down to one hundred and twenty five French prisoners left; all of the cartel prisoners from the Mexican project had gone to meet their maker.

I thought about sending the worst of the illegals – the ones that had been deported for crimes and had returned to the US – there. It was a thought. Ice was not returning any of those back to Mexico yet.

I would order it on Monday. There was no need to send them back to Mexico for a second or third time; they would keep coming back again and again at the first opportunity.

So far seventy thousand homeless had been removed from the streets and fifteen thousand rioters. Today as the sun came up the rioters were gone in all the cities. They had decided it was time to get out of Dodge.

The street rumor mill had started late yesterday. Anyone arrested under martial law was subject to the military criminal proceedings, far more restrictions on attorneys and challenging evidence, and more aggressive penalties. Hard labor meant hard labor and ten years meant ten years. That was enough to scare some of them away. Not getting California’s lax criminal courts that issued no fines and no jail time took all the fun out of rioting/partying.

We landed at McCarran International a few minutes before 1100. A motorcade was already waiting. I put on the heavy protection and waited while the Secret Service had a quick meeting with the advance group.

Everywhere I went that was planned, an advance group went first. A C17 carried the second Beast and a backup decoy Beast and several heavily armored Suburbans. The Secret Service arrived days in advance to plan for emergencies.

With three of these a week until July they were going to be busy. The party was paying some of the cost to keep Congress from complaining too much.

The motorcade carried us by casino row on the way to the convention center. The convention center was two million square feet; half of it was set up in a springtime home renovation theme for the week.

The other half – separated by huge doors with just a walkway through – was set up for the political arena with thousands of chairs, tables and bleachers along the sides.

A commercial vendor had the concessions center along one wall to make hot dogs, hamburgers and American fries.

It took some doing but I finally was able to talk the agents into letting me and my entourage walk through the home renovation displays and tools and toys. By the time we got to the front it was time to do the PR work for the event.

There were dozens of well to do contributors who were residents of Arizona, Nevada and even a few from California, that had contributed very large sums to the National Conservative Party and the Nevada Conservative party.

Some had paid thousands to be seen with President Thomas. Given the circumstances, I was the best they were going to get. I was more than willing to have my picture taken with them – if they wanted.

I took off the heavy vest as we were in a controlled environment. Everyone in this room had been investigated as time would allow and been through the hand metal detectors.

The heavy vest was just that and I was happy to take it off. It made me look more natural and not like I was a line backer.

I did what I said I never was – a politician. I made nice, smiling and shaking hands. I stood for photographs and signed the pictures after they came off color printers. And most of all, I talked politics.

My beautiful mates did the same thing. They had dressed the part. Decked out, the best clothes they had, the best jewelry and they talked politics. It only took a few minutes for everyone to know they were my family, with interest in them growing tenfold.

They posed for pictures with the wealthy donors, by themselves, with their wives and as couples. They talked with the average person and politics. They even brought people that they thought I should speak to meet me after the Secret Service approved. They were state level representatives and delegates from Nevada, Arizona, California and with a few from Utah and Oregon.

They were amazed they could get access to say a few words, ask a question or two and even offer praise for the things I had done with terrorism, the drug issue and now with the homeless problem. And of course there were a few concerns.

Lunch was a cheese burger and fries – I needed something quick. I had worked too long politicking with the party chairman and VIPs from the area.

In an hour I was to give the first short speech. It was the normal; the party needs your financial help as well as footwork canvassing the neighborhoods for votes. I spiced up with the speech Adam and I worked on.

After the speech I took a break with the girls and my staff. Also in that time I got an update from California. Arrests had leveled off today, less than a thousand were arrested in all the cities.

Another ten thousand homeless were picked up. That was a good thing; there were only a few more tents left. A reduced number of troops were to ride the streets tonight looking for the ones that had been missed.

The streets were full of media today, all trying to get the big story. They even tried get into Camp Parks along with several senators and representatives.

They were wasting their time – I had left strict orders with the Generals that no politicians or media were to be admitted to the camp without my personal approval at any time, for any reason.

General Ingram called, on a conference call with General Wainwright. With the declining arrest and numbers of homeless the Generals were wanting to pull down the troops involved.

I agreed on two conditions; one was there be enough troops left at Camp Parks to handle any possible uprising for a few weeks.

The second condition was that a hundred trucks with several hundred soldiers to make a detour through Portland Oregon to do a recon.

Oregon was next on the list based on the homeless numbers. The several politicians from Oregon were more than interested if troops were headed their way.

I simply said ”Oregon is on the list and troops were packing to move today. California should have sent the clear message what happens if they don’t fix the problem. I only send the messenger once. When the troops arrive, so will federal agents with arrest warrants.” That interview was recorded by the Portland TV station.

Oregon had made no attempt to fix their problem; a few Army trucks riding around for a day or two may spur them into action. When I finished the second round of politicking, it was time for the next speech.

All the seating was full and there were even people standing. Several of the independent national TV networks were going to broadcast it live. Adam – with my help – wrote a ‘get them on their feet, pumped up and motivated’ speech.

I delivered while pausing at the right times, thumping on the podium and holding the teleprompter with both fists. I finished with, ”We conservatives have to have eight more years to fight terrorism, illegal immigration and to continue moving our booming economy even higher. We must continue to make good paying jobs for our children.”

”I need more conservative senators and representatives in Washington. I am depending on you to get out the vote and to vote. The next eight years will determine the fate of our country and our place in history.”

I started a chant, ”Eight more years! Eight more years!” My job was to pump them up and I did.

I stepped away from the podium and looked for my mates and security so we could leave. They were caught up in the energy of the crowd leading the chant. “Eight more years!”

I could see I was not going to get out of here for a while. The party chairman and the group with him were glowing and were chanting with the crowd. I waved them forward to the front of the stage and joined in the chant.

If the party chairman was worried if I could carry the torch, he could put his fears to rest. The first two fundraisers had been great; this one went off the scale.

We were back in Washington and at the White House at 2400; it had been a long but productive day.

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Book 2 Chapter 135

The office staff were recording all the major channels. I picked a couple and fast forwarded to the good parts – the Governor and Lt. Governor being led away in cuffs and shackles.

Then there were the pictures of the homeless and rioters being loaded in Army trucks by the hundreds. I hoped all the planning for processing was enough and successful.

In the Oval Office the first thing I wanted was an update on the USS Wilmington. By now there should have been some kind of preliminary report on cause, damage and injuries.

I was just getting ready to call the Chief of Naval Operations to find out when he came in with General Ingram. I guess the Navy was a little unsure about meeting me alone.

”The Tehran has sunk with the loss of over one hundred sailors, according to the Iranian media. Several Iranian boats picked up survivors just before she foundered and exploded in a fireball,” the Chief of Naval Operations said.

”Do you know if it looked like they got everyone off before the explosion or were they still picking up sailors?” I asked.

”The Iranian boats had withdrawn before the explosion,” he said.

”Sounds like a planned event to me,” I said.

”Our thoughts exactly. It was in the shipyard for months and on and off in dry dock. I hear through channels they are begging Russia for a replacement,” General Ingram said.

”Did the Wilmington have the upgraded control room or did it have the problem prone touch pad controls?” I asked.

During the Obama administration the Navy was forced to upgrade all Navy ships to a digital a touch screen format control room, years before they wanted to go in that direction. There wasn’t any long term testing in the field to work the bugs out of it.

As a result there had been four collisions at sea in the Pacific and dozens of incidents and near misses that weren’t reported. The old fashioned ship’s wheel and mechanical control station had been removed and replaced with a touch screen computer and electronic controlled servos in the engine room.

It was intended to reduce the number of men in the engine room and on the bridge and to reduce maintenance.

It all worked well on a display in theory; in reality it was a mess. With the ship rocking and rolling with the waves it was nearly impossible to hit the right place on the screen to control the ship, plus the computers
took time to correct incorrect inputs by the operator. When in close quarters and instant responses or corrections were needed they didn’t happen in time.

Then there were questions that maybe the Chinese were interfering with the GPS signals causing some of the problems and collisions.

”The Wilmington had manual controls so there were no computer errors involved. Looks like the Tehran just kept steering into the Wilmington until there was a collision,” the Chief of Naval Operations said.

That ended the meeting and I spent it reviewing the speech I was going to give in Las Vegas tomorrow. The rest of the family was flying into Andrews and from there Air Force 1 was carrying us to Nellis Air Force Base.

By Friday evening it was clear they were going to need more disaster tents than initially thought. The whole operation was going to be a lot bigger than we thought in both tents for the homeless and the arrested rioters. The numbers of homeless had been terribly under-estimated.

The Generals were estimating they were going to need two hundred more tents for the now eighty thousand plus that were going to be detained or arrested.

The Generals had flooded the riot areas with troops – ten thousand to be exact – and they were making arrests. Another ten thousand were picking up homeless with another two thousand doing the processing.

Three thousand were assisting FEMA in setting up the disaster tents. They were big farm show circus-like tents made to hold seven hundred and fifty army cots. They were only going to put five hundred in each tent to allow a little more space between bunks and included a plastic crate for personal belongings.

When a homeless person was brought in he was assigned a processor who carried him through the complete process. First to the barber, a military style crew cut and then facial hair gone – shaved. The barbers were from the military boot camp induction group. One close haircut for everyone – no bullshit allowed.

From there to the showers – five minutes max. Coming from the showers he was issued a storage box for personal items. Two pairs of socks, underwear, tee shirts, two short sleeves shirts, two pairs of shorts, two pairs of pants, a pair of flip flops and one pair of tennis shoes. He was also issued a disposable razor, tooth brush and tube of toothpaste.

One set he wore and the other set went into the box. Next he went to identification. There the processor filled out the identification form on a computer. Name, last address, next of kin, last place of employment, doctor, social security number and photo. The photo was the reason for the haircut and shave and it collected a multi-point facial scan. Otherwise all bums looked the same.

He then issues a camp number that was put on all his clothing and on a strong wrist band that would require heavy-duty cutters to remove. The final step was fingerprints and DNA sample taken by an FBI specialist. The fingerprints and DNA were run through the crime system. Some of them were going to end up in rooms with a lot more bars.

By then the processor had made a decision – was the individual sane or needing mental evaluation – determining which tent they went to. They were assigned a bed number and walked to the tent. At the tent it was explained to them what they would get and what was expected of them and what would happen if they didn’t.

There were two thousand processors and five hundred computer terminals. Criminals and rioters were processed the same way with the exception that they went to tents designated for criminals.

All tents were separated and surrounded by razor wire strung on steel posts two rows high and had a guarded gate for access. Each tent had a portable ten stall outhouse and a ten stall shower that were pumped empty as needed by a contractor. The water was supplied by black pipe from fire hydrants. There was a cafeteria tent for every four tents; food would be served in shifts, cooked by military cooks.

Women got to keep their hair and were issued sports bras to eliminate
so many different sizes, along with ladies garments. They also had a different set of tents.

Portable laundries were brought in. They were forty foot trailers with two rows of apartment washer/drier combinations and a big generator and propane tank to supply very hot water to kill germs.

There were others that had big commercial driers and washers to handle the mass amounts of clothes, towels and wash cloths.

The soldiers had to be cared for too. Once the barracks was filled with soldiers – there were ten thousand bunks in barracks for military training at the camp – tents were put up for the rest of the soldiers, minus the razor wire and food tents. Soldiers could eat in the regular base cafeterias.

The soldiers were going to work in twelve hour shifts. It was determined the bunk houses would be shared by both shifts; simply change the sheets and pillowcases.

Just how good the advance planning was, would be determined in a few days. The advanced planning with FEMA had been going on a year with thousands of military cots and blankets in warehouses waiting for the next hurricane or natural disaster. This would be a test of everything.

But the first day had progressed better than anyone anticipated.

In the cities – as the homeless and rioters were picked up – the state highway and city workers were disassembling the cardboard and popup tents and placing them in dump trucks and dump trailers for disposal. Everything was to be considered trash.

The city workers were scooping up feces and trash. The streets were pressure washed with a heavy chlorine and soap mix to disinfect the sidewalks and walkways. It would have to be done twice to get a thorough cleansing and to get rid of the stench.

The public urinals the cities had placed on the streets – the Generals ordered removed. Obstacles placed by residents as well as rioters were also removed, the streets opened up for traffic. Junk was removed, burned cars and trucks removed. In a few days the streets would be clean and accessible for the public to use without fear.

It would have taken weeks for the cities to do this. But with martial law it was instantly ordered and someone found a contractor to do it. Besides, there was a transportation division at one of the nearby Marine bases. They were experts at moving big immovable objects. Shot up trucks and tanks required the best and the military had it. There were several large trucks sitting on the streets, burned to a crisp.

To make matters more or less complicated, ICE had picked up two thousand illegals trying to make it out of the state, some near the Nevada, Oregon and Arizona borders. There was also a steady stream of cars crossing in Mexico, many more than on a normal Friday.

In San Diego, San Francisco, and Los Angles ten thousand illegal’s had been detained. Those with criminal records and those that had been deported previously and returned to the US were going to JBG’s new prison in the security zone. There was no need to send them to Mexico; they would only come back.

It would take weeks for things to return to anything called normal. It would take months or years for some of the damaged buildings to be replaced or repaired.

Washington and the media were anything but normal. The screaming from Congress and protesters could be heard if I opened the door, so I didn’t. They were out front of the White House.

The rest of the family landed in the grass just before dark. I had changed the plans; originally they were going to meet me at Andrews tomorrow, but we wanted to spend another night together. We planned a nice dinner and evening.

The girls were keyed up about Las Vegas tomorrow. Mindy and Jake came with them; they were going to go with us. The White House had found sitters to go with us who could watch the little ones while we were at the convention center.

One last thing I did before walking to the residential area was to check the reports from California. The second shift of soldiers was working now. The first shift had collected thirty thousand homeless and ten thousand rioters. ICE had ten thousand illegals detained to be deported.

ICE had changed policies, they were now taking facial scans, DNA and fingerprints and checking them against criminal records. The ten thousand would be returned to their home country in a couple days, a process that had been sped up by martial law.

I hoped that by the end of the weekend some of the soldiers could be sent home.

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Book 2 Chapter 134

Friday morning I was up at 0500, reading the updates from the night; it was still night in California. My first meeting with the DHS, FBI and the Attorney General were at 0700. Then there was a meeting with the secret terrorism court at 0800. That meeting was green-lighted and the warrants typed up late yesterday afternoon.

At 0800 the Justice Department made its case before the judges. An hour later they left the court with one hundred and twenty four warrants for California state officials and one hundred ten for San Francisco government officials. There were another hundred for Los Angles and one hundred split between Sacramento and San Diego.

An F16 Fighting Falcon was to deliver the warrants to California. With in-flight refueling and afterburners it would make it in plenty of time. To hell with the sonic booms; people should be up by now anyhow.

The warrants would be served at 0800 Pacific time, 1100 here. Hundreds of FBI, DHS and US Marshals were going to do the task – they were already there waiting for paper. They were told to make the arrests as high profile as possible. Handcuffs and leg shackles were appropriate and add plenty of TV coverage.

Marty Coeburn from the FBI, Attorney General Dunne and General Ingram were in the Oval Office with a handful of papers to get the legal ball rolling. I read them and signed at all the noted places. Connie copied all of them for my records. I placed check marks by the items on the outline.

Dozens more check marks to go; it was going to be a long day. Connie and Troy both walked in with mugs of coffee for me.

My next meeting was on MTAC with General Ingram, the Army chief and the Generals assembled at Camp Parks with the addition of General Clayton Stone, the base commander of Camp Parks.

I made the opening statement. ”At 0800 Pacific under the National Emergency Powers Act I am declaring two emergencies for California. One is a national disaster emergency to deal with the rioting. The second is an order for Federal Martial Law for the state of California because of inaction of the California authorities to protect the public, general safety, its property and also to deal with the rioting.”

”The third item I am ordering is the arrest of government individuals for treason, conspiracy to commit treason, suspicion of terrorism, dereliction of duty, failure to fulfill the oath of office and a variety of other charges. General Ingram will give you your individual assignments,” I said.

”General Wainwright, you should have the package with the breakdown of the operations at Camp Parks to house twenty thousand in the temporary camps that are being set up. Also included are guidelines for their detainment. The DHS, FBI and ICE teams will be there to help identify them with instructions. They should report in within the hour,” General Ingram said.

”The DHS team has the instructions on how to process all the individuals detained at the camp and that is their responsibility,” General Ingram said.

”General Wainwright, you and your team are to replace the Governor and state legislators at Sacramento. You are acting governor and control state government. You are also to assume command of all military units in the state as needed,” General Ingram said.

”Your initial order is simple; stop the rioting. Make note that live ammunition is to be issued to all soldiers. Rocks, bottles and Molotov cocktails thrown at your men are to be considered deadly weapons and are to be responded to appropriately with three round bursts,” General Ingram added.

In perfect PC language – ‘kill the sons of bitches if necessary’ were my orders to the General. He made it sound so innocent.

”All homeless are to be relocated to Camp Parks,” General Ingram said.

”All rioters are to be relocated to Camp Parks, they are to be identified as rioters with the necessary information attached to their flex cuffs. Separate accommodations are being built for rioters and criminals,” General Ingram said.

”Marine Brigadier General Louis B ‘Chesty’ Puller the third will be responsible for carrying out the orders at Los Angles. He is also to be the acting mayor and local government there,” General Ingram said.

”General Richard Donner, your area is San Diego. Mayor of the local government,” General Ingram said.

”General Harold Moore, your area is San Francisco. Mayor, head of government,” General Ingram said.

”General Simon Scott, your area is the city of Sacramento with like powers,” General Ingram added.

”In the back of the packet you will notice the powers that Martial Law gives you. One of those is that it suspends all labor unions and labor contracts. I am sure you will hear from them – deal with them appropriately,” I said.

”You are to also note you have authority to limit access by the media including arrests to limit inflaming the public,” I said.

”On another note, the EPA is to do an assessment of the environmental damage to the city because of so much human waste in the streets. They are not to interfere with the cleanup as suggested in the packet,” I said.

”You have your orders, let’s make a productive day out of them. If you have any questions – call,” I added.

At 1045 I received an update from the AG. ”FBI, US marshals and DHS officers in position in all cities and Sacramento.”

Connie and Troy helped with the statement I was going to give to the media at 1115. The media was already assembling. Just as we were finishing up, General Ingram came in.

”The Iranian destroyer ‘Tehran’ collided with one of ours in the Indian Ocean in the darkness. Damage to our destroyer will take several months to fix. No causalities on the USS Wilmington, there was only minor flooding. Their destroyer may be sinking, it is listing heavily to port. They are refusing aid,” General Ingram said.

”Do all the appropriate things,” I said.

”You do know the dry dock at Mirbat is operational if the Navy wants to do repairs there, versus sailing half way around the world,” I said.

The dry dock at Mirbat had been built by the British in the Great War to be able to handle heavy cruisers, battleships and the British carriers at the time, up to a thousand feet long.

The Wilmington was a Burke class destroyer at five hundred and five feet long. There would be plenty of room if it was needed.

The Iranian destroyer Tehran was a former British destroyer left over from the Great War. It was one of six sold to Iran during the reign of the Shah in the early seventies. Three had been scrapped, two others were in a bone yard supplying parts to keep the Tehran in service.

If the collision only caused minor damage to the Wilmington and the Tehran was sinking, I would bet it was being scuttled and this was the next round in the card game they were playing.

I added it to the list of items to talk about.

At 1100 the AG sent, ”All agents are making arrests, ‘Operation Sunshine’ is in full swing.”

The news was already on the TV; SWAT teams and politicians in handcuffs quickly make the news.

At 1115 I stepped behind the podium. ”At 0800 Pacific, 1100 Eastern, I signed a declaration of National Emergency for California because of the multiple city riots. The declaration has several parts.”

“Part one orders martial law for the state California.”

“Part two orders the military under General Wainwright to take control of the California government. Four cities that have heavy rioting are also under military control; Sacramento, San Diego, Los Angeles and San Francisco.”

”All homeless individuals are to be collected and taken to Army Camp Parks. They will be processed, fed, evaluated for the proper health care and detained.”

”Those rioting will be charged under the appropriate sections under Martial Law. They will also be temporarily incarcerated at Camp Parks,” I said.

”This is in the interest of public safety, National Security, and to stop the rioting. It is also for the prevention of a serious medical epidemic because of the human waste and used needles from intravenous drug use that are routinely deposited in the streets with little or no response from the elected officials. This is the reason I chose this drastic and controversial action,” I said.

”Keeping the streets and our cities safe and sanitary for our citizens is one of the primary duties of elected officials of developed nations,” I said.

”It is our belief that criminal elements – both international and domestic – have a large influence over local and state government in California. These suspicions have been proven with evidence of payoffs and influence peddling.”

”Cell phones, email accounts and other communications of all officials have been seized,” I said.

”On another front the Iranian destroyer ‘Tehran’ collided with the USS Wilmington last night. There were only minor injuries on the Wilmington and minor flooding. The Iranian destroyer is listing and appears to be sinking. Aid has been offered and it was refused,” I said.

”I have time for ten questions. Who wants to go first?” I asked.

”How long will the martial law order be in effect?”

”As long as it takes,” I said.

”How many soldiers are involved?” one asked.

”Fifty thousand with another fifty thousand on the way for reserve,” I said.

”Are there any troops headed to other states,” another asked.

”Not today but possibly soon, if they don’t get their acts together. It’s time to end this crap some liberal governors and mayors have allowed to happen. Once great cities have become cesspools of crime and filth for our citizens to live in. This is clearly not reflective of the America we once knew and were proud of,” I said.

”What prison are the politicians being taken to?”

”They are going to federal prison Guantanamo Bay. The prison is nearly empty, quiet and I hear the climate is great there this time of the year,” I said.

It was going to be anything but quiet. I had ordered they were to get no sleep. They were experts at that there – live fire and mortar duels all night.

The flight was going to be anything but first class – they were going to be delivered there in several C130s. Hot, cold, very bumpy and plenty of barf bags.

For lawyers to get there it was going to be a long swim. I had ordered only military approved flights be allowed at the Gitmo airfield. There was no one assigned to approve them.

The questions took thirty minutes to finish. I was tapped on the shoulder and handed a note from Troy. ‘‘You’re needed in the office.”

It was an excuse to end the news conference. I was ready to walk away anyhow.

”That is all for now,” I said then turned and walked into the hall reading the handful of notes from Connie.

The news media was in a feeding frenzy on the TV. I had just put the most populated state in the union under martial law – many stations were simply going full time to the news, jumping on any live feed they could get.

Sorry Iran, your destroyer is a distant memory on any news channel you turn to. If you sacrificed your destroyer for media coverage it was for nothing, I thought.
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Book 2 Chapter 133

The night proved interesting; I spent time with all my mates talking, holding and making more decisions as to where JBG and we were going. I knew where I was going to be for the next year, at least.

Breakfast was really interesting with the kids, Mom, Dad, Jason and Lisa. The boys ate everything they ordered. I was impressed and surprised. The helicopters were going to carry them back to the island in an hour. I delayed my routine until they left.

At the security meeting the Iranians were up to their normal tricks of threatening their neighbors. They were going to start war games in the Arabian Sea to show the world their new weapons.
That’s fine I thought, we will have planes and ships watching closely – give us all your secrets as it will save lives, ships and planes later.

There were other skirmishes that were noteworthy today, Pakistan and India were saber rattling near ‘Gurdaspur’, a stone’s throw from the Chinese border. Tanks and artillery were moving in that direction, the Chinese were also moving troops and equipment into the same area.

In the African country of Mali the village of Goundham was overrun by Boko-haram. All the elders – both men and women – were brutally tortured then murdered before being dismembered. Over two hundred bodies had been recovered.

Young children were murdered, the rest were evidently taken hostage and gone, the village burned to the ground. It was the tenth village eliminated this year. I wondered if there was a pattern to the destruction – a direction they were going.

I ordered the General to begin an analysis of the raids and to begin a close-in surveillance with satellites to see if the rebels could be found.

The US military was not in the area but former Black Bear had a contract with Mali and several other countries in the area for training. We continued the contract. It would give training a whole new meaning if they were given an enemy to use for training.

After the security meeting there was a staff meeting where I would find out how well I did with the speech to the public. All the media ratings reports were in.

The first order of domestic business was California. The governor – instead of applying state pressure to end the riots – was saying things to encourage them like the true communist he was suspected to be. He was not alone; the legislature was copying his lead.

The homeless riots had expanded territory – now there were sixty city blocks of San Francisco involved. Homeless from other cities – Los Angeles, Sacramento and San Diego – had started making demands and areas of unrest and rioting.

I called Attorney General Dunne, ”You and your top lawyers to the Oval Office in one hour, please.”
Then I called General Ingram, ”Have the chiefs available this afternoon, I may have a need for an emergency meeting.”

I called my legal department and told them that I wanted the constitutional experts for the meeting.

In the meantime I did a VCATS with Andy about the Boko-haram and told him what I was doing on this end but that he needed to step up security and increase the size or our groups there. I didn’t want our people to become causalities there as Black Bear men had been. You may want to think air support if it is feasible.

I finally went to the staff meeting that was just beginning. The ratings for the State of the Union were the highest in a decade. I guess people just wanted to hear what the first woman President had to say. They stayed to the end of the speech and that was unusual, according to the people that studied such things.

There were several outfits that did the survey thing. Overall the speech was well received with a seventy percent favorable rating. I wondered if they did points for style and form like they did for figure skating.

”I guess it will be safe to do the fund raiser Saturday night, I won’t have to worry about the tar and feathers,” I said.

Saturday night was the resumption of the fund raisers. This one was at the Las Vegas Convention Center. This one was for the middle class with hot dogs, hamburgers and the like. It was twenty five dollar admittance with music and show girls to open the show. There was a raffle for ten Browning shotguns and I was to draw the winning numbers. The anti-gun people were going to scream bloody murder.

Then Troy hit me with one I didn’t expect would be asked.

”Would you vote for President Jones if she were to run?”

”Seventy five percent said – yes,” Troy said.

”Only place to is go down if you believe in polls. I currently have no intention. It won’t be that high after I tackle California.”

The hour was up and everyone was waiting on me in the larger meeting room.

For four hours there was an aggressive debate about the mess in California from a legal and ethical standpoint. The homeless riots were spreading; Colorado had the first one today. The Denver mayor had it under control quickly, however activists were already headed there to stir the flames.

Activist were planning marches in other cities with large homeless populations but California was by far the biggest in terms of numbers.

I asked the lawyers what the legal routes were that I could take. It took us four hours to go through all the possibilities available to me. When they were finally finished I had an outline to follow. It allowed no room for any missteps.

I called the Generals in and began the search for enough room on a nearby military base or other federal property nearby and give them the orders I had legal blessings to do. There was no time to waste and lots of things had to happen fast.

Homeland Security with the FBI had their work cut out for them in the terrorism court getting dozens of warrants.

I called FEMA and told them to prepare a response for a national emergency and at this point all of activities were to be classified as secret.

FEMA could find all the things necessary to care for the homeless we were going to remove from the city. The only thing is, it was going to be much different – more controlled and a lot more.

The day was nearly over, all the people that were in the series of afternoon meetings were to be here at 1000 with real solution and answers.

The firing of the agriculture people had hit the Washington gossip circle among the agencies. There was no doubt that I wanted answers to the questions I asked. I expected results to my instructions and orders – not excuses – or else.

With Connie, Troy and the chairman of the party we planned the next sixty days of fund raisers. I was sharing the days on the calendar with the girls. They were still pumped about last night’s State of the Union speech, its energy, its media results and ratings this morning.

I was going to do three a week; one of them on Saturdays – either Saturday during the day or Saturday night.
The donations had picked up considerably in the last few weeks, well ahead of the election cycle four years ago.

Thursday morning I did an MTAC with the girls at the office; Marcy, Vicky and Ching Lee. Jenny, the boys, Lorrie and Sara were with me, Lisa was here too for the home schooling.

Then I reviewed the daily security briefs. I was waiting for the group from yesterday with the things I had asked. Thirty minutes later we were seated and the door closed once again.

I listened to reports from everyone and their thoughts. First was the riots in San Francisco; they were still spreading and getting worse. Still there was no action from the governor. It was time to act.

There were decisions to be made and only I could make them. We had covered all the topics yesterday, everyone knew what they had to do.

General Ingram and Mike Summers – the FEMA director – had read my mind; they had put major parts of the plan into effect yesterday without being told.

Four C17s were on the tarmac of the San Joaquin Depot – a joint operations depot. Two were from Florida and two were from Louisiana. The FEMA warehouses had been raided. The material and personnel were being transferred to dozens of Army trucks waiting for orders on where to go.

They were ordered to carry the supplies to Camp Parks. Camp Parks was on six thousand acres with several hundred blacktop and sand. Its primary mission was reserve training. The base also housed a federal prison and the Santa Rita jail.

The training facilities there could house eleven thousand soldiers. There were soldiers and badly needed trucks scattered all over California with its thirty two military bases. Ten thousand Army troops with a total five thousand trucks were ordered to report to Camp Parks tomorrow.

Another five thousand troops and Army trucks were coming from Fort Riley, Kansas. This group was bringing their support units. They had driven all last night and today.

Two thousand Air Force were going to take control of Sacramento’s problem along with several hundred FBI and DHS agents.

Another five thousand Marines with equipment and support were coming from Camp Pendleton in south western California to Los Angles, more than likely setting up tents in the many stadiums and surrounding parking lots.

Troy asked for another fifteen minute slot on the major TV for tomorrow at 1115.

The soldiers at Camp Parks Reserve training center were going to be putting up tents there the rest of the day and evening with help from FEMA. The General’s staff had drawn up how the camp was to be built yesterday, complete with razor wire.

Orders were sent to Major General Jonathan Wainwright Jr., General Richard Donner, Marine Brigadier General Louis B ‘Chesty’ Puller the Third, General Harold Moore and General Simon Scott to report to Camp Parks immediately. Each were to bring five of their staff and notify the joint chiefs of their arrival.

The evening with my family was a welcome change, although it was interrupted often with updates and requests for the many authorizations.

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