Fools and Visionaries: Barbarians Inside the Gates

By Mick Smith

When William Henry ODonner, Democratic governor from Pennsylvania, wins the Democratic party nomination for president of the United States in the summer of 2008, and then the presidency in that falls general elections, he became the first from his party to wrest control of the White House from the Republicans since the end of the last century.

Given the bitterness of losing the elections in 2000 to the Republican candidate, Benjamin Croft, the left wing of the Democratic party was ecstatic over the win and saw it as their opportunity to fundamentally change the direction the country had taken after September 11, 2001, when in their minds the Republican presidency of Benjamin Croft had instituted repressive measures in an attempt to protect the country from another attack by elements of radical Islam.

At long last, they were in a position to remove all American combat forces from the Middle East (who they viewed as occupation troops in an illegal war), remove all barriers to immigration, and to institute political measures to ensure the predominance of the left-leaning Democratic party for generations to come.

As the political drama unfolds after the inauguration of President William Henry ODonner on January 20, 2009, Dr. Ross Shepard former Navy SEAL team leader and current professor of political science at Clemson University in Clemson, South Carolina is preparing his students for final spring exams when he receives a call from an old friend in his military past. Still at the Pentagon and part of Homeland Security, Commander Frank Reddings alerts Dr. Ross Shepard of Internet chatter the National Security Administration has been picking up for the last few months which leads it to believe involves a divergence of strategy by Al Qaeda. It appears Al Qaeda is attempting to move away from hard targets like New York and Washington, D.C., toward softer targets in the Southeast. CDR Reddings wants Dr. Ross Shepard to organize and maintain a Southeastern Threat Assessment Group (STAG) to prepare to fend off any attempts by Al Qaeda to attack the southeastern section of the country.

With some misgivings, Dr. Ross Shepard agrees to do so and is quickly swept up in a web of intrigue involving shaheed (suicide) bombers, nuclear politics, and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 6, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462826971

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Fools and Visionaries

Barbarians Inside the Gates

Mick Smith

Copyright © 2009 by Mick Smith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THE CALM

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE STORM

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE RESISTANCE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

BOOK DESCRIPTION

DEDICATION

To my mother, Mildred, who instilled in me from a very early age the joys of reading and writing.

My daughter, Meghan, who kept faith in me throughout a difficult time and always ‘believed’. She is the light of my life.

My wife, Bernadette, whose patience with this work goes beyond description. Throughout it all, she has been my staunchest supporter, friend, and ally.

And, finally, to Dr. William V. Moore—Distinguished Political Science Professor at the College of Charleston—who passed from this life on March 25, 2009. He will surely be missed.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Although this is a work of fiction, I have lightly peppered the text with locations that exist in my native state of South Carolina that are integral to the flow of the story.

My heartfelt thanks to the following:

Neill Cameron, Jr., of Clemson University; Charles Usry and Candice Bell of the Esso Club; Mr. Harold Mac McKeown of Mac’s Drive In; Michael Haskins of the College of Charleston; Patti McDonald of the Shem Creek Bar & Grill (a favorite haunt from way back); Scott Long, Richard Coleman, and Lamda Plutschak of A.W.Shucks Seafood Restaurant & Oyster Bar (another must stop when in Charleston).

Also, to my Manuscript Services Representative, Sam Daniels, for her patience and professionalism; to Santi Priya, for his copyediting; and to the rest of the Xlibris staff for their efforts in helping to bring an idea to reality.

Also, to Beverly Arp for her reading and critique of the first draft.

All other references to people or places in this novel, whether living or real, are used in a fictitious manner or are a product of the author’s imagination pursuant to the Fair Use statutes of the US Copyright Law.

Fools, visionaries, sufferers from delusions, neurotics and lunatics have played great roles at all times in the history of mankind and not merely when the accident of birth had bequeathed them sovereignty. Usually they have wreaked havoc; but not always. Such persons have exercised far-reaching influence upon their own and later times, they have given impetus to important cultural achievements and have made great discoveries. They have been able to accomplish such achievements on the one hand through the help of the intact portion of their personalities, that is to say in spite of their abnormalities; but on the other hand it is often precisely the pathological traits of their characters, the one-sidedness of their development to a single aim, which give them the power to drag others after them and to overcome the resistance of the world.

—Sigmund Freud

(From the Introduction to ‘Thomas Woodrow Wilson: A Psychological Study’ by Sigmund Freud and William C. Bullitt, Page XVI)

Yet who can presume what the war wants, so vast and aloof it is . . . so absentee.

—Thomas Pyncheon, Gravity’s Rainbow, 1973

Whether we wish it or not we are involved in the world’s problems and all the winds of heaven blow through our land.

—Walter Lippmann, A Preface to Politics, 1913

THE CALM

CHAPTER ONE

Washington, DC

The arrogance in William Henry O’Donner’s personality was, at times, so abrasive it could cause a Catholic nun to swear like a drunken Portuguese sailor. Though William Henry O’Donner, a lifelong Democrat and two-term governor of Pennsylvania, had managed to tiptoe successfully through the minefields of state and national politics during his career, intrinsically he was as liberal—if not more so—as his northeastern political comrades. As a quick study, O’Donner had realized early on that if he had aspirations beyond the state level, it would behoove him to maintain his natural union constituency while giving in to the more national issues such as opposition to flag burning and gay unions, reduction of capital gains taxes, and other issues respected by mainstream America, the so-called Red States. Lessons learned from the past three decades of regular election losses to the Republicans by the Democratic party taught O’Donner that you just cannot slap the nose of a pit bull and expect to win. The last several election cycles had convinced him that running for office as a flaming liberal would be tantamount to committing political suicide. Others had tried that before with the same results: overwhelming defeat. And now, after a brilliant two-year campaign to win the nation’s highest office, William Henry O’Donner stood poised to be coronated as America’s forty-fourth president.

As he sat with his campaign manager, integral staff, and family, William Henry O’Donner reflected upon the events that had fortuitously brought him to this great stage. The previous winter’s campaign had been, at best, a tortuous highline act where he had to infuse himself as the Democratic candidate most likely to redress past decades of party failure and capture that most elusive of all goals: winning both the Middle American and Sun Belt electorate. As he had throughout his political career, William Henry O’Donner had espoused essentially moderate views. This gave national Democrats a cautious optimism that they would be, finally, led out of the dark political void of the past three decades of their parties’ abysmal election losses. True soldiers though they were, national Democrats had become drained at having to vote, election after election, for a ticket that showcased the most stridently liberal elements of their party’s infrastructure. It was as if, since the late 1970s, they had been forgotten by those post-1960s Democrats who had pressed forward with an agenda that was far too liberal—if not radical—even by their standards.

Continuing to gauge the path of his success, President-elect O’Donner remembered that the early summer debates had been a cakewalk after winning crucial primaries in the Deep South. Although the Iowa caucus and the New Hampshire primary are among the first in the nation, those were mere political foreplay leading up to the tumultuous orgasm of votes he garnered on Super Tuesday in the Deep South—long a Republican stronghold.

Sir? his campaign manager intoned, breaking O’Donner out of his reverie, they’re almost ready for you.

President-elect O’Donner turned his head, nodded, and then placed his barely touched glass of Jack Daniels and Coke onto the oaken coffee table and rose to his full height of six feet, four inches. With a discernible scowl, O’Donner asked his lieutenant, Is that leftist bitch, Pelamonte, through with her drivel?

Yes, sir, Adam Jones responded. If you remember, we scheduled her early and gave Congresswoman Pelamonte her ten minutes well before Senators Black and Artwill. She’s done. Has been for a while. They’re about ready for you now, sir.

How’d she do? asked O’Donner. The last thing I need right now is to have her torpedo all I’ve worked for just to push her tired old sixties hippie agenda. I thought I had effectively run her tits through the wringer last June at the Sacramento Conference.

Well, sir, there was initial loud applause, but I think she stayed inbounds of our agenda. The speech by Senator Black went extremely well, and the keynote address by Senator Artwill was very enthusiastically received.

Well, good, O’Donner replied as he smoothed out his Brooks Brothers suit, I’d hate to have to take her back to the woodshed this late in the game. As President-elect O’Donner began to move toward the door, the two Secret Service agents assigned to him moved to his flanks as he gathered in his wife, Rebecca.

Jim, Don, how y’all doing tonight? Get any rest? asked O’Donner as they moved forward down the hall together.

Yes, sir, they answered in unison, glancing toward him as they entered the second hallway.

Good thing, O’Donner replied, this will be a circus from here on out. How are the families? he asked as they made their way now toward the podium entrance.

Very good, sir, responded agent Williams.

Not married, sir, answered the other agent as both moved him and his entourage out of the hallway.

My bad, agent Hernandez, he spoke as he looked toward his campaign manager. Jones, you get a time out. I want to know about the people protecting me and my family.

Yes, sir, it won’t happen again. Adam Jones said as he furiously reached for his personal data assistant, or (PDA), as they walked on toward the entrance to the stadium.

And Jones . . . put away that damned thing and just try to frigging remember!

Yes, sir, I will, he answered sheepishly as he put away his brain, it won’t happen again.

*     *     *

Due to one of the worst ice storms in the history of Washington, D.C., the usual presidential motorcade was scrapped in favor of just staying inside and taking the oath of office within the warm and cozy confines of the Rotunda of the U.S. Capitol building. It wasn’t lost upon O’Donner or his staff that he would be the first president since Ronald Reagan in 1985 to be sworn in there publicly. As a matter of fact, this election day of January 2009 would come very close to the record low of seven degrees that was recorded during Ronald Reagan’s second inauguration, also in 1985.

With the noon temperature hovering around twelve degrees with a very blustery wind reaching fifteen to twenty miles per hour and gusting at times to around thirty miles per hour, Inaugural Day of January 20, 2009, was a day most sane people preferred to remain inside. Days spent scrubbing the pathway up Pennsylvania Avenue to the nation’s capitol, hundreds of city worker man-hours laying down salt for traction, could not compensate for the unforgiving torrent of ice and snow that continued to fall.

Some had ascribed the current weather conditions to a very severe El Nino effect. Others had blamed global warming and the failure of previous administrations from signing the Kyoto Accords which, presumably, would have significantly decreased carbon fossil emissions worldwide had, of course, the most highly developed industrial nations signed and adhered to it. Moot point now. The weather in D.C., and much of the northeast, is miserable and dangerous right now. The throngs of people who traditionally lined both sides of Pennsylvania Avenue on inauguration days were, more than likely, safely ensconced in the safety of their homes prepared to watch the next president of the United States take the oath of office inside the Rotunda of the Capitol building. At least those who still had power in their homes. With almost two-thirds of the Washington, D.C., area without electricity, at least temporarily, the city—and the state of Virginia—had marshaled their entire road and electrical crews to restore power as soon as possible. The union workers were sure to raise hell later.

*     *     *

As President-elect William Henry O’Donner advanced to the podium to accept responsibility as the nation’s next Commander-in-Chief, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court James Alderson Allen also stepped up on the opposite side. With each moving toward the presentation podium, one could hear a plethora of hurrahs from the left liberal side of the chamber, and a few barely discernible harrumphs from the opposite conservative side. The viewers of network stations and the political Public Service channel CSPAN carrying this momentous event—if they were so lucky to have their power intact—would be able to easily discern the winners from the losers of the last election.

With O’Donner’s wife and three children standing behind him, and the soon-to-be former President Benjamin (Ben) Croft and his family to the opposite side, nearer to the U.S. Supreme Court Justice, the chamber settled down and the oath of office began. Placing his left hand on the Bible, and raising his right hand, William Henry O’Donner repeated the following oath as directed by Supreme Court Justice Allen:

I do solemnly swear 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.

Having now satisfied the Twentieth Amendment to the Constitution, President William Henry O’Donner waved once to the assembled dignitaries in the Rotunda, turned to hug and kiss his family, then moved back to the podium to wave once again to those in the chamber, and to speak to the rest of America.

"Chief Justice, members of Congress, my loyal and devoted family, my fellow American citizens, and to my fellow citizens of the world community:

I stand here this afternoon to proclaim a new dawn in the day of our short, yet troubled history. The nearly 233 years of our life as a nation has seen many burdens placed upon us. We have fought to build this country as we have fought to protect it from the horrors of fascism and communism. Throughout it all, we have defended the Constitution of the United States, and throughout it all we have strived to hold the rights of our citizens sacrosanct. Over the past several years, those rights have been slowly eroding and I am here to tell you that we will repair the damage done to the Constitution under the guise of some looming threat that many of us firmly believe is not real . . ."

There is a commotion amidst the conservative section of the Rotunda, many of who are obviously upset at this blatant attack on the previous Republican administration.

. . . while our country has not experienced an attack since that fateful day on September 11, 2001, our civil liberties have taken a horrendous beating. And it is time we restore them. And this administration will do this. As a patriotic American, I want all of us to sleep in the arms of security and well-being, yet I adamantly refuse to do so at the expense of this nation’s freedoms and constitutional rights!

There is now a standing ovation from the majority of those in attendance with accompanying thunderous applause. The conservative side of the aisle looks stricken with some dreaded illness, yet remains quiet.

September 11, 2001, damaged us all. We lost many innocent citizens and many brave souls. As a nation, we were all stunned, then angry, at such brazen attacks. We suffered together, and we wept together. Our natural inclination was to strike back. Our duty as a nation, and as a free democratic country, was to defend ourselves and smite those who had attacked us on our own soil. At this moment in time, however, just over eight years later, it is time to heal. The marshalling of our proud armed forces, our headstrong assault into the Middle East has—as the record now shows—alienated us from our friends around the world. Now, after almost six years and 7,000 American lives lost in a no-win situation in the Middle East, I say ‘Enough is enough!’ and promise you that we will bring our troops home soon with honor, and leave the fighting up to the new Iraqi and Afghani governments.

Noticeably, several members on the conservative side of the aisle now get up and quietly leave for the exits. Almost unheard of, this is seen as indicative of the gut-wrenching battles between the liberal Democrats and the conservative Republicans over the course of the past 20 years, but especially in the past four. Cameras capture the exodus, and murmurs grow throughout the Rotunda. President O’Donner moves on:

As we know now there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. As we know now, Saddam Hussein was no immediate threat to this nation. And we know he had been effectively contained by the unified world powers from posing any real security threat to western democracies. As we know now, Saddam Hussein—as much of a brutal thug as he was in power—counteracted the real threat from Iran.

Another standing ovation, tumultuous applause, and giddy shouts of approval from the floor.

And, now, my fellow Americans—and to the rest of the world—I say to you: The bloodshed has ended. We will mend fences with our Islamic brethren in this blessed nation and abroad. In an era of peace, understanding, and cooperation, there will be no more blood for oil! Our nature as a civilized country begs us to walk hand-in-hand with our global fellows. Our tradition as an open democracy impels us to move forward to strengthen those ties with our friends that became so weak since the attacks of that horrible September. Our faith and prosperity lead us to look anew into the world and to promise to resolve our differences over a conference table instead of a battlefield. For the good of humanity, it is incumbent upon us as a nation to reconcile those differences with others, which hold us apart from eternal understanding and a lasting peace for all. Thank you and God bless you all.

With this, President O’Donner stepped away from the podium, threw his arms into the air with the first two fingers of each hand forming a V, reminiscent of former President Richard Nixon. Rather than signifying Victory, his carefully orchestrated movement was more an exclamation point to the gist of his long campaign—Peace—and, it was hoped, a sign of encouragement and a closing of the ranks to his party’s far left wing.

As the newly elected president gathered his family around him for a final photo opportunity before leaving the stage, the multitude of network cameras began panning the dignitaries in the crowd. One of the cameras caught two conservative solons exchanging words as they departed:

What an idiot, remarked Georgia Senator Burns to long-term senator and friend from his neighboring state of Alabama, Clyburn Wilson.

Yes sir, Senator Wilson retorted, good luck with THAT over the next few months!

For the next hour, those in the viewing area still fortunate to have electrical power were blessed to be able to listen to various television talking heads explain to them what they had just heard with their own ears throughout the inaugural address.

CHAPTER TWO

Clemson, South Carolina

Dr. Ross Shepard eased his weathered, old, blue pickup truck into the last remaining parking spot just in front of Mac’s Drive In. Located just off Pendleton Road about midway between the single red-light town of Pendleton and Clemson, Mac’s Drive In was a lunch hour magnet for a diverse crowd of Clemson University athletes, faculty, staff, alumni, and just plain good old folks from neighboring communities.

Situated along the periphery of the small college town of Clemson, South Carolina, Mac’s Drive In was a relic of the fifties where it had been opened by Mac himself after a stint in the army and a previous restaurant experience in downtown Clemson in the late forties. When other eateries on both sides of Tiger Boulevard and College Avenue had altered their appearance and changed their menus to accommodate their clientele over the decades, the culinary offerings at Mac’s stood as a beacon for those whose taste buds clamored for an old-fashioned hamburger plate, chili cheeseburger, or a foot-long hot dog smothered in mustard, onions, chili, and, sometimes, slaw. No need for lattes here . . .

Entering the front door, Dr. Ross Shepard paused momentarily to scan the small room for an available seat. The aged, circular padded cushions on the four-legged wooden stools along the L-shaped counter held the weight of what appeared to be the entire offensive line of the university football team, the symmetry broken only by the intermittent local farmer who had stopped in for a quick bite and some chitchat before heading back home to finish plowing the fields for spring seeding.

Spotting a young couple leaving a booth along the wall at the west end of the counter, Shepard crossed the room to take a seat just as Miss Mary, a longtime fixture at Mac’s, arrived to remove the dirty plates and wipe down the table surface.

Well, hello, there, professor, Miss Mary chimed in as she quickly cleared the table, haven’t seen you around in a while.

That time of year, Mary, Ross Shepard responded as he scooted across the worn vinyl booth seat, preparing for final exams and trying to focus these raging teen-aged hormones on academics instead of Myrtle Beach and the Isle of Palms.

Miss Mary laughed a hearty laugh and rolled her eyes upward at the ceiling as she finished clearing the table. Well, good luck to ya! What’ll you have today? The usual?

Well, Mary, Dr. Shepard began as he gave pause to thought, I believe today I’d like to start off with a good Charleston she-crab soup for an appetizer. My main course will be your succulent prime rib au jous, with wild brown rice, and a large slice of those juicy, homegrown tomatoes. And you can also bring me one of those tasty frozen margaritas—shaken, not stirred—Jose Cuervo Gold, please, and not the house brand.

Uh, huh, Miss Mary shot back at him as she took just a moment to scribble in her pad. So that’s the usual, then, hamburger, fries, and sweet tea. I’ll even throw in the tomato slice for you, she said as she turned toward the kitchen, hitched up her white restaurant pants, shook her head, and left.

As Miss Mary made her way toward Jo-Jo the cook, another longtime employee of Mac’s Drive In, Ross Shepard caught bits and pieces of conversations swirling around him as his eyes surveyed the near-museum quality of the interior of this legendary cinder block restaurant.

Over the years, and especially after Clemson University had captured the 1981 National Collegiate Football Championship, Mac’s Drive In had become an unofficial repository (along with the downtown Esso Club—a perennial top college sports bar) for signed jerseys, photos, and helmets of former and current university star athletes and coaches. To his right and above him, Dr. Shepard saw the featherless rubber chicken hanging from a noose on the ceiling. A tribute to Clemson University’s century-old, in-state archrival, the Gamecocks of the University of South Carolina.

*     *     *

Ummm, Dr. Shepard? The young man standing at Shepard’s table was in his early twenties, tall, lanky, and