TSUNAMI STORM Page 10

  Willa could feel the heat in her face. She shook slightly and stared at the street in front of where she was standing. “This was a disaster,” she said quietly.

  “Actually, it wasn’t,” Jason said.

  She hadn’t realized Jason had been there. “How can this not be a disaster?” she asked.

  “I’ve been counting people,” Jason replied. “Even with the confrontation, you’ve got two out of three people following the evacuation route. This is a success.”

  “Well, it doesn’t feel like a success,” Willa replied. “It still feels like a disaster.”

  “Come on,” Jason replied. “Let’s go to the picnic.” He took her by the hand and headed up the hill.

  At the picnic, Willa’s daughter and granddaughter quickly cornered her. Chelsea was wearing a flowered dress and Dakota wore her faded black jeans and black top decorated with silver beads and shiny threads in a swirling design.

  “Gramma, is Dolphin Beach really in danger?” Dakota asked. She looked very worried.

  “Tell her everything is fine, mom,” Chelsea interjected. “She doesn’t need to be obsessing over this, too.”

  “I’m not obsessing.”

  “Yes, you are,” Chelsea replied. “Tell her there’s nothing to this earthquake thing, mom.”

  “If there was nothing to it, why would the city hold a practice run?” Dakota asked, defiantly placing her fists on her hips.

  “It’s just something cities do, that’s all. Mom, tell her there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “All my friends say Dolphin Beach is going to die,” Dakota replied in an accusatory tone.

  “Nobody is going to die,” Chelsea insisted. “Tell her, mom.”

  “I can’t take this,” Dakota said, placing her hands on the sides of her head. “Nobody is listening to me. I can’t take this anymore. Everybody’s going to die. I can’t stand it.” She turned and stalked off.

  “Now see what you’ve gone and done?” Chelsea said to Willa with anger in her voice as she turned and followed Dakota.

  “Family?” Jason asked.

  “What gave it away?” Willa replied. She looked over at Jason. “A lot of people are scared by this. Dakota isn’t the only one.”

  “I know,” Jason said. “I am, too.”

  * * *

  After the picnic had concluded, Willa entered the police station. She looked at Frank and his two minions sitting in the one and only jail cell.

  “You can let them go,” she said to Chief Dolan.

  “Nope,” Chief Dolan said, sitting at his desk with a broad smile on his face.

  “What do you mean ‘no’,” Willa asked.

  “Disturbing the peace, blocking public access; these are criminal offenses.”

  “But don’t you have discretion in things like this?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Chief Dolan replied. “My discretion is whether to arrest someone or not. Once I arrest them, it’s up to the magistrate.”

  “Chief, this can’t be that serious. This is a very minor thing,” Willa said.

  “Well,” Chief Dolan replied, “you’re partially right, it is a minor thing, but it’s also serious. These people are charged with a misdemeanor, which means it is punishable by one year in jail or less. Felonies are punishable by more than one year in jail. That’s the law.”

  “I can’t believe these people are going to spend time in jail for this,” Willa replied.

  Chief Dolan stood and escorted Willa to the door, opened it, and motioned for her to exit. She reluctantly complied. Chief Dolan then stepped outside with her.

  “Look,” he said quietly, “Frank was partially right. This is costing the city money, or at least it was.”

  “What do you mean ‘was’?” Willa asked.

  Chief Dolan smiled. “Frank and his two followers will spend the night in jail. They deserve that for interfering with a proper city function. Tomorrow they will go before the Magistrate where they will be given a choice: a fine, or thirty days in jail. Frank may not like it, but he and his two friends are paying for Dolphin Beach’s picnic.”

  * * *

  At nine o’clock on Monday morning, Willa ventured over to the court room in the other half of the City Offices. Handcuffed, Frank and his two followers were ushered into the court room by Chief Dolan. Frank’s face was red from the anger he was experiencing.

  “You can’t do this,” Frank shouted. “This is un-American.”

  “Mr. Gillis,” the Magistrate calmly replied. “Let me remind you that you are in a court of law and proper decorum is required. Chief, you can remove the cuffs. What are the charges?”

  “Disturbing the peace and interfering with a proper function of the city.” The Chief removed the cuffs. Frank rubbed his wrists, glaring at the Magistrate.

  “Mr. Gillis, how do you plead?”

  “Not guilty.” Frank shouted.

  “Mr. Gillis, a last warning about maintaining decorum in the court.”

  The Magistrate looked at the next person in line. “And how do you plead?”

  The man lowered his head and looked at the floor. “Guilty, your honor,” he replied quietly.

  “Guilty?” the magistrate asked. You’re going to have to speak up.

  “Yes, guilty,” the man replied.

  “Two hundred dollar fine,” the magistrate said. “Pay at the City Clerk’s office. You are dismissed.” The magistrate looked at the remaining man who watched his friend leave.

  “Guilty,” the man replied. “Two hundred dollars?” the man asked. The Magistrate nodded. The man turned and left. Willa had to smile. Chief Dolan understood people better than she did. This was working.

  The magistrate looked back at Frank. “Trial will commence on the matter of City of Dolphin Beach versus Frank Gillis. Mr. Gillis, you have the right to have counsel present and advise you of your rights. Do you understand those rights?”

  Frank was boiling over with rage. “You can’t do this. I have the right to protest against what the city is doing. This whole thing is wrong. Just plain wrong.”

  “Mr. Gillis, this is your opportunity to retain counsel. If you do not ask to have counsel present now, I will have to assume you do not wish to be represented by an attorney.”

  “I know my rights” Frank yelled. “You can’t do this. I have the right to assemble and the right to protest against the city. You can’t stop me from doing that.”

  The Magistrate looked at Frank. “You are only partially right, Mr. Gillis. You have the right to peaceably assemble and peacefully demonstrate. You do not have the right to block public access, nor do you have the right to disturb the peace. Five hundred dollar fine for contempt of court. You were warned about proper decorum Mr. Gillis.”

  Willa couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Screw you,” Frank shouted. “I’ll appeal this to the State Supreme Court.”

  “Which is your right,” the Magistrate calmly replied. “An additional one thousand dollar fine for contempt of court, Mr. Gillis.”

  Frank shut up and just glared at the Magistrate.

  “Chief Dolan, what did you observe in regards to Mr. Gillis yesterday?”

  “I observed Mr. Gillis blocking the practice evacuation route, which was an approved city function. He was shouting and being disruptive.”

  “Any witnesses present?” the Magistrate said looking directly at Willa.

  She stood. “I saw exactly what Chief Dolan reported.”

  “Mr. Gillis, do you deny that you were present at the location in question?” the Magistrate asked.

  “I’m not admitting to anything,” Frank said, unable to quell the anger within him.

  “That’s not a denial,” the Magistrate replied. “Do you deny blocking the street yesterday?”

  “This is stupid.” Frank said in a loud voice.

  “Well, this response certainly is,” the Magistrate replied. “An additional two thousand dollar fine for contempt of court. The defendant does not deny he distu
rbed the peace. Do you have any witnesses to bring forth to prove you did not do what you are charged with?”

  Frank stood ramrod straight and stared back at the Magistrate, anger still etched on his face. He at least didn’t say anything else to place him in further contempt of court.

  “Having concluded testimony, I find you, Frank Gillis, guilty of disturbing the peace and interfering with a proper city function. Two hundred dollar fine and fifty dollars court costs. You can pay your fines at the city clerk’s desk, at which time you will be free to go, otherwise you will be remanded to the city jail until your fines have been paid – your choice, Mr. Gillis. We are adjourned.” The Magistrate handed the Chief his written court order.

  Frank fumed at Willa as Chief Dolan led him over to the City Clerk’s desk. Frank pulled out his checkbook and wrote the city a check for $3,750.00. “This isn’t over,” Frank said to Willa. “Not by a long shot.”

  Willa just couldn’t stop laughing.

  CHAPTER 22

  Hart Office Building, Washington, D.C.

  Senator Elizabeth Bechtel stared at Ann Miller who sat across from her. “Tell me you made some progress.”

  Ann grinned. “The more powerful people are, the more they ignore the little people.”

  Senator Bechtel chuckled. “And the little people all have eyes and ears.”

  “They do…” Ann replied. “Here’s what your boy, Rod Schneider, has been up to.” Ann opened a folder and handed her a single piece of paper laid out as a spreadsheet. “People he visited along the left, dates across the top. Notice anything interesting?”

  Bechtel looked at the sheet. “So who’s this Billingsly? He’s the only one Rod visited every single day.”

  “Deputy Director of Covert Operations,” Ann replied. “No idea what they discussed, but Vice Admiral Billingsly is getting daily photo updates on something. Most popular pick is China.”

  “Any idea where in China?” she asked.

  Ann shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing definitive – could be anywhere.”

  “So why China?”

  “Strange things are going on over there.”

  “I know. First they expel all of our people, and then they stop shipping products to us. Last word from the State Department is that China has refused entry to all American commercial ships. All trade between the U.S. and China has unofficially come to an end.”

  Ann sat back in the chair. “That’s a huge economic hit to China’s economy, but it helps explain the other thing.”

  “What other thing?” the senator asked, becoming more curious.

  “The mainstream media isn’t reporting the story, but Chinese warships have become confrontational with U.S. Naval vessels. Our ships are being pushed back to 200 miles off the coast of China.”

  “That’s international waters – they aren’t supposed to do that,” Bechtel said, feeling more agitated.

  “As long as our ships stay beyond 200 miles, there’s no problem,” Ann said. “Rumor has it a Navy admiral took a run at the 200 mile line with an Aircraft Carrier. A Chinese destroyer cut across its path and reportedly launched a deck-mounted torpedo at the carrier.”

  “A live torpedo?”

  “We don’t really know. The Aircraft Carrier changed course to go back behind the 200 mile line. As soon as it turned, the torpedo went dead in the water.”

  “Oh my God,” Bechtel exclaimed. “Could it have sunk the carrier?”

  “My sources tell me China has torpedoes that are nuclear capable. Whether that torpedo had a nuclear warhead, we’ll probably never know. At least my hope is we never have to find out.”

  “And this didn’t make the news?” Senator Bechtel asked incredulously.

  “No. The White House has squashed everything to do with this story. Nobody’s going to touch it.” Ann leaned forward and spoke softly, “What I don’t get is if China wanted to go to war with us, why didn’t they just go ahead and sink the carrier?”

  Bechtel drummed her fingers on her desk and twisted her mouth. It’s a good question, she thought. China has gone through most of the motions a country does before they declare war, except they haven’t closed the U.S. Embassy. Nor have they withdrawn their embassy from Washington. Is that the last step? Are we that close to war? “We’re missing something,” she said. “Something important.”

  The look on Ann’s face indicated she was debating telling the senator something. “What are you thinking?”

  “There’s a resource,” Ann said. “The guy’s retired – ex-Defense Intelligence Agency Analyst. He spends a lot of time fishing and hunting, so you’re going to have to leave a message and wait for him to get back to you.”

  “Have you talked with him?”

  “On previous situations, yeah. He knows what’s going on in the world. His specialty is Global Strategic Analysis.” Ann dug a card out of her folder and handed it over. “A word of advice,” she said seriously. “Call once and leave a message. Do not pester him or you’ll never hear back from him.”

  * * *

  Senator Elizabeth Bechtel bullied her way into Sam Forrester’s office at the State Department. “You said you’d keep me informed.” She stood defiantly and stared at him.

  His posture visibly wilted in front of her. “Not intentional. We’re neck deep in political sharks right now. Everyone who’s anybody wants to know what’s going on. We just don’t have any answers.”

  “You could have told me our Navy is being pushed back away from China.”

  Forrester glanced away from her. “That’s not for general consumption. You need to keep it quiet.”

  “And the Chinese torpedo fired at a U.S. Aircraft Carrier?”

  “Christ!” he replied. “How did you find out about that?”

  “Same way I find out about everything – not from you!”

  He turned away from her and looked out the window.

  “How close are we to war with China?” she asked in a soft tone.

  “I wish I knew,” he replied quietly, continuing to stare out his window.

  “The Chinese embassy is still open, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I’ve tried to get in to see the ambassador. So far they have ignored all of our requests.”

  “What about our embassy in Beijing?”

  “Still there – still open. Same thing – they’re ignoring us.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. If they are preparing for war, why keep the embassies open, and then not talk to us? What are we missing?”

  Forrester walked away from the window. “Unfortunately, a large part of politics involves timing, posturing and drama. We’re going to have to wait and see what happens.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Falls Church, Virginia

  Vice Admiral James Billingsly and Jessica again held their monthly dinner party with the usual guests. After dinner the three men retired to the study for Cognac and cigars.

  “I don’t know what you did,” Ralph Cummings said. “But you made things worse, not better. I can’t get in to see anybody connected with China.”

  Billingsly nervously knocked the ash from his cigar into the ashtray. They know what I did, and they are going to use the same technology to attack us. This is my fault.

  Billingsly shifted the conversation over to Clive Bentonhouse. “What about the Iranians? Are they returning to the negotiation table?”

  “They are,” Bentonhouse replied. “And they seem to be in more of a mood to compromise.”

  Of course they are. Billingsly thought.

  * * *

  “The Chinese are doing something?” Jessica asked as they got ready for bed.

  “Yes,” Billingsly replied.

  “James, exactly what is happening?”

  “I can’t go into any details, but the new level of technology we have is being duplicated by the Chinese.”

  “So they will have the same technology we have?”

  Billingsly glanced around the room. “What they’re bu
ilding will be bigger than what we have.”

  “Well, isn’t that how this technological weapon thing works? You always told me that it was a constant ratcheting process. We develop a superior technology, and before too long, someone else develops something better. Then it’s up to us to create something even better. Isn’t that always going to happen?”

  “Yes, yes, it is,” Billingsly admitted. “It’s just that it takes decades to develop new technology and then the damned Chinese simply steal and duplicate what we have done. It can take us twenty years to develop a new weapon system and it takes the Chinese only two years to steal it and catch up with us. It just isn’t right. Something has to be done to stop this insanity. I have to figure out how to stop what they’re doing.”

  “James, I know you’re upset, but there will be an answer. You’ll see. Just give it some time.”

  She doesn’t understand, Billingsly thought. Time is something we just don’t have.

  * * *

  Billingsly watched with dread as Rod Schneider plopped the new report on his desk at the Pentagon.

  “In case you were thinking of using force against the new facility in northern Manchuria, you need to look at this.”

  Billingsly flipped open the folder and read. “Brigade level?”

  “Yep,” Schneider replied. “The place is crawling with 3,000 troops, and not just your average grunt. This is China’s top combat unit, with anti-aircraft missile support. They’re even starting construction on what looks like a military air station, ten miles down the mountain. Whatever motivated them, they’re taking it seriously.”

  Billingsly buried his face in the palms of his hands. This just keeps getting worse. “Okay, thanks for the update.”

  As Schneider left, Billingsly pressed the intercom button. A repeat of his last meeting with the Secretary of Defense was not something he was looking forward to. The problem was this wasn’t going to be a repeat; it was going to be worse.

  * * *

  “We can’t let them finish this facility!” Billingsly firmly stated.

  “And we’re going to do what to stop them? Nuke the place?” the Secretary of Defense replied. Billingsly lowered his head momentarily. “Admiral, we’re not starting World War Three over this. Am I getting through to you?”