Election Day: A Harry Cassidy Novel Read online

  The Reverend went on for several more minutes and when he was done, he had everyone in the room convinced that the Wyoming model would be wonderful for every state in the Union. But they also realized, except for a handful of low population red states in the middle of the country, the rest of the liberal-controlled states would never willingly accept such a model.

  When Phineas finished to substantial applause, Chris re-took the podium and said, “Reverend Phineas is not a member of our Committee, but he is an avid supporter of our cause and a long-time personal friend. I was introduced to him a few years ago by one of our Committee members and I visit him often for advice and counsel. Thank you again for coming, Reverend.”

  The Reverend left, obviously his part was over. Chris looked out at the group for several seconds before speaking. He said, “In order for us to succeed, we need one more important Committee member, a position we have been struggling over for a long time. The struggle is not about whether we need this position – we all believe it is critical – the struggle is over whom to ask to fill the position and if, by asking, would an unfair burden be placed on that person were he to accept it.”

  There was now no doubt in Harry’s mind why he was asked to attend. Christopher Steadman was speaking to only him, his steady brown eyes looking directly into his.

  “We know that when we act,” Chris continued, “the government will mobilize its law enforcement forces against us. If we had someone of law enforcement prominence on our side, perhaps we could mitigate that response. We will concentrate on filling this position and report our results – success or failure – at our next meeting. We have an hour for lunch. Let’s also use this time to move around and get to know each other better. Feel free to use your names if you wish, and please sit with someone different today.”

  Harry ignored that advice and sought out Phil MacDonald. They waited until everyone was settled and chose an empty table so they could be by themselves. This did not go unnoticed by Colonel O’Grady who smiled and gave a thumb’s up signal to Harry. No doubt the campaign to get him on board had begun.

  Chapter Eight

  When they got their sandwiches and salads from the buffet table Harry said, “Phil, did you know about this…this apparent recruitment effort?”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “When Chris asked me to invite you along, all he said was that he wanted to speak with the top law enforcement guy in the nation – you.”

  “I’m flattered, but I’m not even in law enforcement anymore.”

  “But if you were asked, would you join the Committee?”

  “I haven’t enough information to make that decision. I mean, what are the Minutemen really planning to do?”

  “You may find out soon, here he comes.”

  “Harry,” Chris said, “when you finish eating will you join me for a private discussion? The meeting can proceed without us if we run over the lunch time.”

  “Sure, I’ll be done in a few minutes. Where do you want me to meet you?”

  “Right outside the exit doors. There’s an office just around the corner. See you then.”

  After Chris walked away Phil said, “I guess you are about to get the one-on-one sales pitch. Chris seems to be a very persuasive guy.”

  “Yes he does, but maybe he doesn’t want me on the Committee. Maybe he wants someone still in the game, like Walt Kobak or Charlie Carson.”

  “Something tells me the FBI director or the current NYMPD police commissioner would not join this group,” Phil said with a smile. “The man wants you, my friend, for reasons I’m sure you will find out shortly.”

  * * *

  Chris had arranged for the two of them to sit facing each other in comfortable side chairs placed about four feet apart. Harry was very familiar with this interview technique – I am your friend. There are no barriers between us. Please feel free to confide in me. Confess you murdered your wife, you son-of-a-bitch!

  “Harry, I want you to fill the law enforcement position on my Committee.”

  “Why? I am no longer a member of that community, and I am currently unemployed.”

  “I am aware of that, and I still want you. I would not put any current serving law enforcement official on my Committee – in fact, I would not even broach the idea about it. Even though he may agree our cause is just I would not want, or expect him, to violate his oath of office.”

  “In other words you want someone who will act in a capacity more than just an advisor?”

  “Yes and no. I envision the task of this position similar to that of Colonel O’Grady’s with the military. You might be able to convince those in law enforcement that our cause is just and not to interfere in our mission.”

  “And you think I have that much influence?”

  “I most certainly do. The leader of the Task Force who took down the Islamic terrorists of OBI-911 led by the evil Khalid bin Yousef. The beat cop who rose through the ranks to become the police commissioner of the NYMPD and led the fight against the Savior and his Romen Society domestic terrorists. The Director of Homeland Security who defeated the Apostle ending his reign of terror. Yes, my friend, you have a lot of influence. You are probably the most influential and highly respected law enforcement official in the country.”

  “Former law enforcement official, may I again remind you?”

  “Not for long, though.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When the Minutemen strike – and we plan to do so in force and with shock and awe – the call will once again go out to you, the fearless Hopalong Cassidy, to mount up and lead the charge against us.”

  Harry had to smile. He said, “Where did you get that old Hopalong name?”

  “From extensive research, meaning Phil told me. I know all about you, and I fear you.”

  “You fear me?”

  “Yes, you are the only person who can stop us. I want you on my side. And if you won’t join us, I want you to refuse to answer the call when it comes. I don’t want you to put a bullet in my brain and, in so doing, assure the destruction of our beloved country.”

  “What are your exact plans, Chris? What do you mean by shock and awe?”

  “Are you with me or against me?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t believe I have enough information to make that decision now.”

  “Fortunately, you don’t have to make that decision immediately. Time is not of the essence. We plan a couple more meetings, and I assure you our strike plans are not complete.”

  “But when you do strike, violence will be involved?”

  “Yes, we cannot achieve our goals through persuasion and non-violent actions. Things have progressed too far for that.”

  “I remember one of the Committee members, the professor I believe, saying that the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”

  “Yes, a quote from Thomas Jefferson.”

  “And that’s what will occur?”

  “Yes, we consider ourselves patriots and are prepared to shed our blood to rid ourselves of the yoke of liberal oppression.”

  “I appreciate your directness and honesty, but I’m not sure I could join up with you.”

  “Why not? What part of our presentation don’t you agree with?”

  Harry thought a few moments and said, “Nothing, really. I think all of you made an accurate case of what is going on in the nation.”

  “But you have a nagging doubt, most likely the same one I have.”

  “On the contrary, Chris. You don’t seem to have any doubts at all.”

  “The key question is should we attempt to change history by a violent action, or let things continue as they are and just let socialism happen? This was brought up during the meeting.”

  “Yes it was,” Harry said. “Kind of left hanging, like the invisible elephant in the room.”

  “Exactly, but every day that doubt is being nibbled away. Every lawsu
it by the leftist groups, every lie told by the President, every instance of voter fraud – always in favor of the liberals – every bill introduced in congress to control our guns, every increase in welfare benefits paid for by a tax increase, all these things reinforce my beliefs that we must act before things tilt out of our, or anyone’s, control.”

  “You make a good case, but I have to hear a lot more, particularly the exact plan of action you propose. Then I’ll give you a decision.”

  “That’s fine with me for now. Let me leave you with one more fact that I believe is the key fact in our endeavors. The future. The future of our children and their children.”

  Harry could suddenly feel the full force of Christopher Steadman’s zeal and persona boring into his soul through his piercing brown eyes. “We have enjoyed the best of times living in the great experiment we call America. Shall we sit by in idleness and bequeath our heirs a nation bereft of opportunity, stripped of religious freedom, controlled by a tyrannical government? Are you prepared, Harry Cassidy, to sell your children, Lizzy and Patty, into slavery?”

  Chris’s words hit Harry hard. He took a deep breath and said, “You know, my daughter Patty is pregnant with my first grandchild.”

  “Yes, I do know that. And I know Lizzy is an FBI agent and has been assigned to the Joint Terrorist Task Force on occasion. I also have a daughter named Elizabeth, but we call her Beth. That’s who I’m fighting for, my children, Beth and Wally. And so should you. That’s all I have to say for now. Again, you do not have to rush into a decision. Let the information we have shared over these past two days percolate around your mind. Pay special attention to what is going on around us every day. And you will get your details when we meet again.”

  He reached out his hand and grasped Harry’s. Harry said, “I will ponder this carefully, Chris. I’m sure you have given me many sleepless nights ahead, and I assure you I will keep our chat totally confidential.”

  “That’s not necessary. We are – our group and especially our close family members – in this together. Discuss this with your wife, and with Phil and his wife. Their input will be valuable, I’m sure.”

  They left the office and rejoined the meeting which was being chaired by Colonel O’Grady in Chris’s absence. O’Grady said, “We are basically finished with our presentations, so here’s how we plan to wrap things up. Those of you who wish to get an early start out of here, may leave when you get back to your hotel. The rest of us will board the remaining buses for a leisurely drive to Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, for a private tour. This will be followed by another private tour at the University of Virginia, and when that is complete, we will have a farewell dinner at the Boar’s Head Inn in Charlottesville.”

  O’Grady stepped down and Chris returned to the podium. “I wish to thank you all for attending and for your precious support. I trust we have given you sufficient cause – and alarm – to continue that support. In the package you received yesterday you will find a conference critique and a declaration form to indicate if you wish to be invited to our next meeting or be dropped from our rolls. We hope you will all stay the course. We need you. Our country needs you. Election day is nineteen months away. America’s day of destiny approaches. God bless you all, and God bless America.”

  As they picked up their packages and headed for the bus Phil said, “So how did it go in there with Chris?”

  “We have a lot to talk about, my friend – a lot.”

  “You want to do the Monticello thing?”

  “Most certainly, Jefferson can be very inspiring.”

  “Do you know what President John Kennedy – one of the last real Democrats – said about Jefferson?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Kennedy was hosting a state dinner at the White House for some of the most brilliant people in the country – scientists, educators, government leaders – when he said to them, ‘This is perhaps the assembly of the most intelligence ever to gather at one time in the White House with the exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone’.”

  “Well said, and I believe Christopher Steadman would definitely agree with that conclusion.”

  “When do you want to talk about your talk?”

  “Not now. Let’s enjoy the bus ride to the Virginia mountains on this beautiful spring afternoon. Let us absorb the intellectual power of Thomas Jefferson at his home and university. Then let us all eat, drink and make merry at the Boar’s Head Inn.”

  “For tomorrow we may die?”

  “For tomorrow we may die,” Harry echoed.

  * * *

  About a week after the meeting Harry had read and re-read all the material in the package provided at the conference. He read The Declaration of Independence and The U.S. Constitution – slowly and carefully – three times. Before he would discuss his private conversation with Chris Steadman he insisted Susan also read all the material at least once, and he called Phil and asked him and Mary to do likewise. Phil informed him he was already on his second read through, and Mary was almost done with her first. “When do you want to get together,” Phil asked.

  “Early next week. We have to mail our declarations in soon.”

  “How are you leaning?”

  “To attend the next meeting. You?”

  “Same. Will you send a donation?”

  “Yes,” Harry said. “I’m thinking a grand.”

  “A grand is fine with me. Is Wednesday okay with you and Susan?”

  “Any day is good for us unemployed bums.”

  “How about we go to dinner and then back to your place? Mine is getting crowded with packing boxes full of I don’t know what.”

  “When are you making the move to Texas?”

  “End of the month – about three weeks.”

  “Okay, how about The Blue Lantern at 6:30?”

  “Sounds like a plan. Mary and I will meet you there.”

  * * *

  After a modest dinner of seafood and salad the foursome returned to Harry and Susan’s apartment for after-dinner drinks and the long-awaited discussion of the Chris/Harry meeting. After Harry meticulously related the one-on-one conversation with the charismatic leader of the Minutemen, he took a sip of his Grand Marnier and said, “So what do you suggest I do?”

  Susan was the first to answer and surprisingly said, “What’s the problem, my dear? Seems to be an easy choice.”

  They all looked incredulously at her and Mary said, “Easy?”

  “Sure. Harry, you know you can’t join the Minutemen and take an active roll against your former law enforcement friends and your daughter. You could never betray your oaths and ideals. And then when the Minutemen launch their shock and awe – whatever that may be – and the top cops put out the call for you, you politely decline. You are retired. The torch has been passed to a younger generation. You said so yourself after you took down the Apostle.”

  “Damn, you make it sound so simple. I anticipated a three hour agonizing argument over all the pros and cons involved.”

  “She hit it right on the head,” Phil said.

  “Makes sense to me,” Mary said, “and I haven’t even finished my Sambuca.”

  “What about Lizzy?” Harry said. “Suppose they pull her back into the Task Force?”

  “Have a quiet talk with her and persuade her to turn the assignment down,” Susan said.

  “She may not have a choice, my dear. If the FBI says you go, you go.”

  “She can always resign,” Phil said.

  “Not my daughter. No way.”

  “Maybe we’re looking too far ahead,” Susan said. “We can – as the old cliché says – cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  * * *

  When four months had passed and nothing had been heard from the Minutemen, Harry called Phil at his new home in the suburbs of San Antonio. They had communicated frequently by telephone and e-mail and Susan and he were planning a visit in the fall. Harry said, “It’s been four months since our meeting in D.C
. Weren’t we supposed to have another meeting by now?”

  “That’s what I understood. Wonder what’s going on?”

  “Maybe they gave up the mission and threw in the towel.”

  “Yeah, the Committee is probably partying their asses off in Las Vegas with our donations.”

  “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, but I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed.”

  “Are you and Susan still going to pay us a visit? October is supposed to be beautiful down here in the great tax-free state of Texas.”

  “We sure are, and we are now seriously starting to plan our own exodus out of New York. We’d like to take a good look at Texas.”

  “Good. Let’s firm up the dates soon, and let’s hope we hear from Chris just as soon.”

  Ten days after that conversation with Phil, Harry received an email from the Committee. They apologized for the delay, but claimed they had been extremely busy in several areas – identifying critical election races, identifying more liberal support groups, training the new Minutemen who would put their plans into action, and planning their overall strategy in getting their message out.

  They thanked all the attendees for their generous monetary donations and valuable criticism, input and suggestions. As a result of that input the Committee made the following decisions: 1) to go full speed ahead with their mission to save America, 2) to keep the Minutemen name for the group as overwhelmingly approved, and 3) to expand targeted election races to a selected statewide basis based on suggestions. They promised a package of material including all the targeted races would be sent out to them within a week. The message concluded with the declaration that another meeting would not be necessary at this time, but one was in the planning stage for next spring. The ominous words announcing it were – “We hope this next meeting will be the only meeting we will need before we begin our campaign.”