Acts of Sedition Read online

  Acts of Sedition

  By Dennis Stephan

  "© 2013, [Dennis Stephan]. Except as provided by the Copyright Act [1976.] no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  ISBN-1537558803

  ISBN-13: 978-1537558806

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements:

  I dedicate this novel to my wonderful wife of 43 years, Pauline. Without her continued love, devotion, and encouragement I would not be the person I am today.

  Thanks to the following people for their help and guidance in the writing of this novel:

  Walter Adamek, MD

  Joanna Armentani

  Anthony Gallo

  Frank Morelli

  Nancy Morelli

  Aubrey Wesser

  Prologue

  There are times when an innocuous event can serve to chronicle change that history may well view as momentous.

  It was a frigid January day; evidence that 2045 would be an exceptionally cold year. Ice covered the west front lawn of the Capitol in DC and there was an ill wind, as they say. Typically, these ceremonies had been held indoors when the weather was this cold, but the president-elect had insisted that today’s event be held outdoors, as was the tradition.

  The “hand-picked” VIPs were seated up front in a heated section of bleachers. Carol Carson an influential woman and the President of the Power of Women together with her plus one, longtime friend and former sorority sister Angela Maria Mastronardo were relegated to the rear of the seated crowd where they were certain to freeze their asses off. They were so far away from the podium that they could barely see the ceremony. Her outspokenness against the election of the president during the campaign had no doubt cemented her low status among the invitees.

  Other excited supporters and onlookers who weren’t even allowed into the seated area, braved the wintry 17-degree weather. Some were here to applaud, many were not.

  Chief Justice Mark Griffin ceremoniously administered the oath of office to the 50th president of the United States.

  While most before him repeated the oath, President Ahmad al-Abbas, which he shortened to just Abbas, insisted that he recite the oath from memory. His voice was loud and clear. “I do solemnly affirm that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

  While not unprecedented, the president’s use of the word “affirm” instead of the more commonly used “swear,” ensured that even his oath of office would be memorable, if not controversial.

  Since the election, anti-Abbas sentiments, documented in every major newspaper in the country and on every social media site on the internet, kept law enforcement on edge. Threatening hate letters and email received at the White House over the past few days underscored the gravity of the situation.

  The newly elected president, the first Muslim ever to hold the office, smiled and waved to the crowd as he prepared to deliver his inaugural address.

  After the usual pleasantries about being a humble man born to immigrant parents who wanted to better their lives in America, the president began by explaining what was wrong with the country. He stressed that he was marshalling in a new era of change that would include drastic measures needed to right the ship, as he often put forth during the campaign.

  The president found himself pausing at every mention of Sharia Law, because of a chorus of chants and boos.

  Most of the ruckus was coming from the large anti-Muslim and anti-Abbas crowd that surrounded the Capitol area. Thousands displayed signs that told the story of the absolute hatred that many Americans held for this man. A car backfire had people on the edge of their seats.

  Unfazed, the president continued his speech by chastising the rich for their greed.

  Bottles were hurled in the direction of the podium, forcing the president to duck and be covered by secret service agents.The scattered applause from the guests was quickly drowned out by the protestors chanting “raghead go home”.

  Carol stood in the aisle, about to take action herself, when she was pushed aside by a middle aged man running toward the stage screaming something that was barely audible over the din of the crowd noise.

  “You suck you sand monkey,” yelled a young man in the audience who was being escorted away by the Capitol Police. “Go home to live with your towelhead Arab brothers!” he screamed. Secret service agents converged on the man and, fearing that he might have a bomb, tackled him to the ground and covered him with their bodies. Eggs from the rioting crowd joined the bottles and rocks flying overhead. The barricade soon disappeared as the rioters broke through the line of police and raced toward the stage area.

  With his speech barely started the president was immediately whisked away by his security detail.

  Later that day, Carol and Angela sat in their hotel room in Bethesda, MD just off of I-495, sipping wine and watching news accounts of the day’s events. Film footage of the aborted inaugural address showed what Carol and Angela had witnessed first-hand. But the close-ups on the TV left little doubt in their minds that, like themselves, many Americans hated the new president.

  As the newscaster began his commentary on the upcoming speech, the final clip showed the president being whisked away from the stage while the sound of gunfire shattered the proceedings. The video showed the intense fighting between the rioters and armed police around The Capitol.

  “There is no precedent for this,” said the broadcaster. “As a result of the rioting in Washington today, President Abbas was unable to finish his inaugural address marking the first time in US history that an inaugural address will be delivered from the safety of The White House, before millions of television viewers.”

  The bigger than life image of the president, seated in the oval office filled the screen.

  “My fellow citizens, as you are aware, the events at the Capitol Building today created a unique situation, one that brings me into your homes and offices for the completion of my address. Perhaps this unusual situation portends what my time in office promises.” The president smiled.

  “Earlier I mentioned that we were fighting a desperate war against what I see as the evils of our society. I am well prepared to win this war. My enemies and the scum among us who support the sinful ways of greed, wantonness, and alternative lifestyles have tried to silence me. I will not be silenced!”

  The president went on to outline his plan for the country, a plan that involved returning to America’s core values that placed the highest value on a love of Allah and country and on restoring the traditional two parent household. In his speech, he stressed the importance of restoring the dignity of the working man and allowing wives to take their rightful roles besides their husbands as the keepers of their houses.

  As he spoke, his speech pattern became rapid, and his voice was raised almost to a level of shouting as he raised his arms in praise of Allah and scolded those who opposed his ideas and supported the rights of the haves.

  While at times, his 35-minute speech bordered on incoherent and sounded like the ranting of a madman, it was evident that the president’s vision of bringing America back to its roots meant something entirely different to him than it did to most Americans.

  Angela turned toward her friend several times; surprised to see an utterly relaxed look on her face as though the president’s words either hadn’
t registered with her or had no effect. That seemed strange given Carol’s role in organizing today’s protests.

  Acutely aware of what Abbas stood for, Carol had worked tirelessly to derail his presidential campaign. She believed him to be a tyrant. Oddly enough, Angela thought that Ahmad Abbas was a born leader who was often quoted as saying that he was the right man for America who would right the ship that had wandered from its course. How could she have been so wrong?

  At its conclusion, Angela sat teary eyed and in disbelief at what she had just heard. She could do little more than shake her head at the thought of what this man’s distorted view of America would mean for the country.

  “We were there,” she said, at last, proud that she had seen history in the making.

  Carol just said, “When democracy ends; war begins.”

  Chapter 1

  I hate my job Angela thought as she walked several blocks to the Broad Street subway train that would drop her off near her office building. There was a time when her posh center city Philadelphia apartment was just a short two block walk to work. She loved going to work back then. She was a respected executive. Now she was a glorified secretary, the result of some severe changes in America since Abbas took over just over three short years ago. The change had been more dramatic than anyone could have imagined and men now held all of the important jobs.

  She had spoken to her friend, Carol, a few days ago and felt a particular sadness for her as gay women were treated even worse than most. But Carol was a fighter and someone to be reckoned with. She didn’t want pity. Carol wanted results. She was the one who turned Angela’s apathy into action.

  Tonight they’d be going to a ‘by invitation only’ event where Carol’s good friend, an army general, would be receiving an award. Angela wasn’t gay, but she and Carol often went out together. So this was another chance for them to get together over dinner, talk a little shop, and meet Carol’s friend, General Josh Redmond. The only negative was that the president would be there. She hoped he wouldn’t be asked to speak but guessed he would.

  Damn. She was two blocks from home when she realized that she had forgotten her hajib. She would be late again, but she turned back. While not a requirement many women, especially Muslim women, now covered their heads. She remembered reading once about how Catholic women were required to cover the heads, as a sign of respect, when entering a Catholic Church. Because many of her coworkers were Muslim, she did it out of a sign of respect for them. It helped her fit in, and the bonus was that on those days when she didn’t want to wash her hair, she could just keep her head covered, a win-win situation all around.

  “Screw this,” she said out loud as she reached her front step. She was only working a half day as it was because she had to drive down to DC to meet Carol. I’ll just take a sick day and work on some of the more important issues in my life before getting ready for tonight’s gala affair.

  Chapter 2

  Maryam admired her husband as he dressed for tonight’s black-tie event. He was even more handsome today than he was the day she met him. Of course, she was biased. He was older and the stress of his job had caused a little premature gray hair, but he was still the handsome man for whom she had fallen head over heels.

  “I hate going to these things,” he said.

  “I know Ahmad, but it’s one of the obligations that can pay huge dividends for you.”

  “What is it that I’m attending this evening?”

  “It’s the ‘2047 Gala Military Ball’ sponsored by the American Veterans Association.”

  “Yes, I think I’ve heard of them before.”

  “You have Ahmad. Last year you also attended. You joked that the acronym AVA was a sissy name for a group of war mongers.”

  “That was funny, wasn’t it?”

  “Not to the vets it wasn’t. You should have left it out of your speech. In any event, that was last year, and this is an annual affair. This year the group is honoring recently retired General Joshua Redmond. You’ve never met him, but he’s well regarded in military circles ranking right up there with the likes of Washington, Eisenhower, and MacArthur in terms of respectability. People love him.”

  “Well with all of the changes that I’ve fostered in the country over the past few years, and considering all of the groups who hate me, it might be good to have the veterans in my corner,” he joked.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “And maybe I can get them to support me should I choose to dismantle the ACLU, National Order of Women, NAACP, and the stupid Rainbow Coalition. Who better to join the fight against a bunch of panderers than some war heroes, right?”

  “So much for spirit.”

  “Your limousine is waiting, Mr. President,” came a voice in the hall.

  The president and first lady left their suite and rode down on the elevator alone, well except for their two secret service shadows. They were seldom really alone.

  The state car, or “The Beast” as the Secret Service liked to call it was a large, beautiful, black vehicle, manufactured by General Motors, with all the extras that anyone could imagine. The president loved riding in it because it was a constant reminder to him of how important he was. There was a superior night vision system hidden in the car, and the car was not only bullet proofed, but sealed against biochemical attacks.

  The Washington Convention Center was only a few blocks away, and sometimes the president wondered what would happen if he just decided to take a nice stroll instead of riding in the limo. Of course, the Secret Service would have a fit about that.

  The limo pulled up to the front of the convention center around 7 pm. The Secret Service agents in the cars in front and the rear were already out on the street heading toward The Beast. Those in the president’s car waited for the all clear from the head agent at the door before leaving the vehicle. The driver, who under different circumstances would get out and open the door for his riders, stayed behind the wheel with the engine running when driving the president. This procedure ensured that a quick getaway would be possible.

  The president and first lady exited the car on the passenger side to the cheers of hundreds of people who had come out to get a glimpse of the president. The president stayed to the first lady’s right. While edging along toward the door, they reached out and shook the hands of their supporters. The president, seeing some of his closest friends and allies, embraced them and kissed them on their cheeks.

  Secret Service agents, nervous as usual, pushed him along as they wanted him inside the center where security was much tighter, and the general public would not pose any problems. They had to protect the president who made their jobs even harder by rubbing elbows with his constituents. Abbas enjoyed this part of the evening.

  They made their way inside the double doors and onto the plush red carpeting where a doorman took their coats. They were greeted by a few old friends from Congress, who were big supporters of veterans programs, as well as some of the military brass. He shook hands with everyone as he made his way to the main dining hall where the ceremonies would take place. Before entering, they were approached by a few more people.

  “Mr. President,” said someone to his left. He turned and looked past Maryam to see Carol Carson coming toward them. She reached out her hand as if to shake his when he simultaneously heard her say “why are you screwing up my country” while an agent yelled “weapon.”

  His trained eye saw a glimmer of pink and shiny metal as a hand reached forward. Instinctively, he grabbed for the Glock 32 as it exploded, hitting the first lady in the center left chest area, as she turned to shake hands.

  Chaos ensued as people ran for cover. Others, with drained faces, stood motionless, unable to move while Secret Service agents leaped into action pouncing on the president of POW who had fired the shot from a mere 5 feet away.

  Abbas and the first lady were hurried away as agents yelled “shots fired” over their network followed by the status of the president and first lady using their code
names. “Zeus is ok, but Hera has been shot. Repeat Hera has been shot.”

  Once outside the couple was pushed into the rear of the limo where agents were prepared with four units of blood, two typed for each of them, which were kept in the trunk of the limo. One of the agents applied pressure to the wound on Maryam’s blood stained gown using a bandage that was kept in the limo’s first aid kit. Another selected the blood that was typed for the first lady and started to run a line.

  The agent in the front passenger seat, holding his hand on the ear bud in his right ear, announced that the “carriage” was headed to “Olympus.” The limo sped off to George Washington University Hospital.

  Chapter 3

  The call had come in minutes earlier with the condition of the patient who was in route.

  “We have Hera on board with a GSW to the center left chest area. There is no exit wound. The patient’s vitals are poor, and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve administered one unit of type O blood; a second unit is on standby. Our ETA is 3 minutes.”