THIRTY-FIVE

Hawk’s Nest, Colorado

Abigail kicked off the meeting.

“Everybody’s here. Thank you for coming. And those of you on speakerphone too. You all know that Joshua had emergency business out of the country. He’s not free to discuss the details, but he suggested I stand in as chair. No one objected, so here I am. Okay. Let’s start.”

Abigail was seated at the head of the long table in the conference room at Hawk’s Nest. A few members, like John Gallagher, were there in person.

She quickly cranked the meeting into high gear. “The question before us is whether to take action on the possible nuclear threat that our contact, the Patriot, has explained to us. He’s available to be hooked into this meeting. He’s standing by.”

Senator Alvin Leander, who was there in person, led off. No one was surprised at that since they all expected opposition from him. “So, what verification do we have that our government is standing down on this? I’m skeptical.”

Abigail suggested that they loop the Patriot into the meeting by Allfone. The group agreed. After a minute, he announced that he was on. Leander asked his question again.

Pack McHenry said, “I have it on good authority that Attorney General Hamburg has downplayed the risk.”

Fort Rice, the retired state supreme court judge, was usually the most cautious member of the Roundtable. He had flown in from his home in Idaho. “What do you mean ‘downplayed’? Define that for me.”

McHenry explained. “The AG has officially informed all U.S. intelligence and investigative agencies that Joshua Jordan was the source of the information about this possible Russian – North Korean – Iranian plot, and that Joshua is an unreliable source.”

Beverly Rose Cortez, a Fortune 500 business exec, sputtered through her speakerphone connection, “Josh is a national hero. The president hung a medal around his neck just this week.”

But McHenry reminded her of the lay of the land in Washington. “Of course you’re right. We all see that, and many Americans do too. But Josh also refused to obey a congressional subpoena last year regarding his RTS design, and then he disobeyed a federal court order. On Capitol Hill that can make even a hero look like damaged goods, particularly among the top brass in the DOJ whom he thumbed his nose at.”

Cortez followed up. “What does this mean in practical terms?”

“It means,” Gallagher interjected, “that the federal agencies are all going to drop this whole nuclear threat issue into the nearest hole in the nearest outhouse, excuse my French.”

Phil Rankowitz, the former TV-network executive, was also on speakerphone. “What about our running a major media piece on the government’s failure to protect Americans? Use our AmeriNews service to break the story over the Internet? It’s worked before. Our readership is on a tremendous growth curve.”

“Forget that,” General Rocky Bridger growled. “We’re talking about funding some black-ops-type paramilitary action here to stop some bad guys who want to blow us up, right? That’s not the kind of thing you blast all over the media.”

Abigail said, “Let’s focus. First question: do we agree there’s a credible threat to American security and American lives?”

No dissents were voiced.

“Okay, next. Should the Roundtable fund and support an effort to counter that threat? Are there any objections?”

Leander spoke up. “I have no objection, but I do have an extreme caution. I’m feeling incredibly uneasy about this.”

Rocky Bridger shot out, “The question isn’t who feels warm and fuzzy …”

Silence for a few moments. Then Abigail said. “Then hearing no formal objections — ”

John Gallagher jumped in. “Then we’re talking about direct action, tracking down the scum and hitting them hard, inviting the Feds to join us … but don’t hold your breath. Remember, I saw the changeover at the FBI in the last few years. I was there. From the top down everything was injected with a big dose of politics, like everybody got formaldehyde pumped into their veins.”

Abigail addressed Pack McHenry. “Mr. Patriot, what would you need?”

“My group is effective, but small. We need additional investigative staff, and we need it yesterday. And we need people who are willing to shoot to kill if necessary. And we’re also talking a million and a half, maybe two.”

“Dollars?” Cortez asked.

“Right.”

Gallagher said, “I say we get ready to rumble.”

Judge Rice wrinkled his brow; he scratched his eyebrow, then lifted his hand to speak. “I’m not sure we are about … what this group is about … is hiring private paramilitary operatives within our own country. That sounds like vigilantism. We could be in deep trouble for that. Abby, you’re not just the temporary chair here; you’re also the head of the legal section. What’s your take on the ramifications here? I’m already convinced we have criminal exposure …”

Abigail leaned forward. “You’re right, Fort. A skilled, motivated federal prosecutor could put together a case against the Roundtable, against all of us, alleging a conspiracy, using the seditious conspiracy statute.”

Fort Rice turned to face the big star-shaped speakerphone in the middle of the table. He addressed his next question to the Patriot. “Sir, whoever you are … one more question. Do you have any information regarding whether the attorney general’s office knows about us?”

“Yes. They do.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. There are prosecutors in Attorney General Hamburg’s office who want to bring a grand jury investigation into your activities.”

Alvin Leander pounced on that. “See? This is exactly what I was afraid of — ”

Gallagher shot back. “Senator, with all due respect, you knew our group wasn’t the Rotary Club — ”

“Let me clarify something,” Abigail cut in. “We will not — I repeat — will not obstruct or interfere with any lawful action of the United States government. What we are talking about here — ”

“What we’re talking about,” Phil Rankowitz jumped in, “is filling in where the federal government has failed. When they don’t show up, and evil is going to happen — ”

“Sort of like the legion of superheroes,” Gallagher said with a grin. “Batman, Superman, flying into disaster scenes to save the citizens when the local constables can’t get their act together.”

Leander was shaking his head. “Not for me. I didn’t join to be some kind of covert strike force. I want change, I want my country back, but — ”

“You’re not going to have a country to save,” Rocky Bridger shot out, his seventy-year-old face purple with emotion, “if we drag our heels.”

For another four hours they debated the issue. The final decision was a compromise. The Patriot was only authorized to investigate the matter further and to make a detailed “wish list” of what he needed and how much it would cost. John Gallagher said the compromise was a “cop-out.” Rocky Bridger was also visibly upset.

Abigail adjourned the meeting and asked Pack McHenry to call her back separately. When he did, only Abigail and Gallagher were in the room. The rest had left.

“I want you to know,” Gallagher said, that I’m not waiting for the Mickey Mouse Club here to give me the go-ahead. I’m going to figure out something on my own.”

“Stick with us, John,” Abigail pleaded. “There’s strength is unity. Hang with us.”

“Speaking of hanging,” Pack McHenry said from the speakerphone. “Wasn’t it Ben Franklin, on signing the Declaration of Independence, who said, ‘We must all hang together or assuredly we’ll all hang separately’?”

“And I’m just trying,” Abigail said with a struggling smile, “to keep every one of us off the gallows.”

Gallagher said he had an early flight the next morning so he’d catch some dinner and retire early to the guest wing with a few of the other members of the Roundtable.

Abigail checked her Allfone voicemail when she was alone. There was only one message. It was from Joshua.

Abigail laughed and then teared up a little. She loved the guy something fierce. There was still only one real thing left undone between them — and she shouted it at her Allfone: “Oh, Josh, I love you so. But for crying out loud, why don’t you just give in to the Lord? Open your heart to Jesus and get yourself radically saved!”

But the rest of Josh’s message took a strange turn.

Abigail had just taken the roller coaster. Now she was dumbfounded. She marched upstairs looking for Cal. She found him in his bedroom hunched over his computer. He was scribbling notes on a pad.

She had that look of fiery determination on her face, and her son saw it. “Cal, did you know anything about Deb going to Israel with Dad?”

He looked up, his eyes wide open. “You’re kidding. So she really did it?”

“You knew?”

“No, not really. She just said something about how she was going to ask Dad.”

Abigail turned away, talking out loud to the air. “And why am I the last one to hear this?”

“Sorry,” Cal said. “I thought she was just blowing smoke.”

Abigail was wordless for a second, then muttered, “Lord, give me patience with that man. And with that girl.”

Abigail gestured to Cal’s computer. “What are you working on?”

“Just some research.”

Abigail was still reeling from Joshua’s message. So she didn’t notice the secretive smile on Cal’s face just before he turned back to his project.