THE DAYS AFTER THE UNTHINKABLE HAPPENED
The New New World Order
(A serial book excerpt)
Previous installments – After Flight 93 crashes into the White House on 9/11/2001 killing President Bush as was originally planned, Dick Cheney, the Vice President, is made the leader of the country. He begins immediately to make changes.
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The day was not beginning well for government employee Stan Bues. He regarded the document in his hand seriously. He reread it several times. The second time was to overcome the shock that had paralyzed his whole being from the first reading. The third was to try to read it with a rational steady mind. The fourth was to confirm that the darkness therein was real. It was.
Stan walked up the hall to where his manager was. He knew talking to him would not change things. But there was always the off chance that it would. But both their jobs depended upon total complicity with whatever passed through their agency. Going off on a tangent would threaten it. Being a conformist was the only way to survive many government jobs.
“Sir, it looks like President Cheney is wanting us to expand our spying on the Democratic Party and…..on all Americans as well. It has something to do with a Super computer complex that can record almost unlimited amounts of information.”
His boss was silent for a moment. Bues could tell he did not like this development, but it was impossible for him to guess at the thoughts that were going through his superiors mind. He knew it was not in their policy to do domestic spying, especially on another political party that showed no signs of violent threat to the President. But the whole tone of the agency had changed since Cheney’s ascendance, and now there was a dark, hovering presence over all of them.
“Is it the NSA?” he asked, a hesitancy sounding in his voice.
“Yes.” Bues answered meekly.
“Just do as he says, Bues.” his boss replied, this time without any hesitancy. He ended abruptly and turned, keeping the poker look on his face, although a good portion of his pride had just eroded and fallen away. This was a dark turn of events, loyal Americans being asked to spy on other Americans. But he too could sense the hovering.
Having been the Secretary of Defense was now serving Cheney well. He had never served in the military, had avoided all the hard work and humiliation that comes with being a soldier. Six times he had dodged the draft, yet was handed the most powerful military seat possible. He had been given the position of Secretary of Defense without ever having to put on a uniform himself. Now he could use the knowledge he had gained from the position to manipulate the tides of the war and the tides of fortune.
The war was already producing prisoners of the conflict. Many were suspected of being Al Queda members. Cheney was pulling the strings of the war on the western side. Smith brought before him a report that Cheney had to answer upon.
“Sir, there are now approximately 120 prisoners in Afghanistan that appear to have Al Queda affiliations. We will need to move them out of the prison they are held in now because it will become a focus of attacks to free them. The Generals are suggesting that they be removed out of the country. The question they ask is where. The generals seem to feel that al-Ha’ir Prison in Saudi Arabia would be a good vote.”
Cheney seized on the problem. “Hell no! The Saudi’s are the ones who started this mess in the first place! Half of the assholes flying into the Trade Towers were Saudi’s! They probably bankroll these Taliban jackasses. No, I would like them to be taken totally out of the Mideast. I would love to dump them on the Israelis, but I trust them only a couple iota’s more than the Saudi’s. Europe is not much better. They would probably let them go out of pity.”
“The Generals are also leaning towards Guantanamo.” said Smith evenly.
“Guantanamo…….” pondered Cheney. “No, I want them on true American soil. And I would want them to know they are real prisoners. Guantanamo is too much like their homeland. Warm. Sandy. No, I want them to suffer. Alaska. Alaska would be it. There is a prison in Seward that would do them justice. Let them freeze their asses off. Then if they escape the bears will get them. They would never find their way back to Mecca from there.”
The aide waited patiently until he had finished. “Another question has arisen. What is to be done with them?” When Cheney hesitated he added “How shall they be treated?”
Cheney flashed his nasty smirk. “Bread and water and a whipping every hour would be fine by me. Push them all in a ditch and bury them alive. But I suppose we will have every liberal crying for their sake from here to Paris. Normal prisoner of war treatment I suppose, but we have to make sure that none of these characters ever get a chance to escape.”
“The Generals would like a more specific answer.”
“To what level shall information be gleaned from them?”
Cheney shrugged and smirked darkly. “Oh, I see. How much shall we play patty-cake with them. As far as I am concerned we can skewer them on pegs like Vlad the Impaler.” He grew more serious. “We need to pull out all stops. We need to do whatever we need to get information from these little pricks. I don’t care if you have to blind them with knitting needles. We need to know what they know. None are innocent. None! They are all like ants over there. What one knows all others know as far as I am concerned.” He stopped and breathed heavily for a moment. “It will all have to be kept secret. Keep it over there in Iraq and Afghanistan as much as possible.” He leaned forward in thought. “There are other countries who will help us. They owe us and they know it. They allow dirty little things to happen in their country and they know how to keep it underground. We don’t need a bunch of people whooping and hollering about us abusing them.” Cheney thought for a moment. “You can pass that on to the Generals.”
The aide duly noted it and swiftly left the room.
“We need someone to keep these do-gooders at the UN at bay. Someone with some bite a true sense of the conservative agenda.” said Cheney.
“Do you have anyone in mind?” asked Penegrin.
Cheney had a spring loaded answer for him. “Bolton. He is a man who can get things done our way. He doesn’t put up with any shit. And when some appears on his plate, he lets everyone know about it.”
“He is a bulldog, isn’t he? He would definitely stick up for our interests, wouldn’t he?”
“That would be his only purpose. Watching out for our own interests is something he is good at. Our interests are the same as his interests. And he is greedy and arrogant. Two good qualities in any Republican.”
Rumsfeld laughed at this. “I never looked at it that way, before. I second that idea. We need to get a lasso around these foreigners from every little dinky country who think they can tell us the way things should go. I wouldn’t mind seeing them get hog-tied every once in a while. And I think Bolton is just the man to do that.”
“Good. I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. Let’s get this on the road.” Cheney returned.
Strings were pulled and unseen negotiations made. John Bolton became the Secretary of State. Wheels beneath the surface began to turn. Underground plans soon began to manifest above ground. A new new world order had begun.
“It is a good thing that we have Bolton in such a strategic position. His bark is bad enough to keep the U.N. pussies at bay. Nobody’s going to try to pull anything over on him.”
“But what does his aggressiveness do for our foreign policy? He alienates a lot of other countries.”
“So what if he does? We need to keep our image up of being a bull dog nation. I think a real pit bull like Bolton does that quite nicely.”
“I think we need to listen to other countries. They have stakes in this whole thing too.” said Administator Bains.
Cheney pulled up close to Bains. “Here is what we can do. You go, listen to them and record what they say. The day I am interested I will come look you up.” Cheney then left in a huff.
Bains looked over at McComb. This nasty guy is our President? How do these things happen?”
“Just wait until he crowns himself Emperor.”
Cheney, walking up the hall, leaned over to McGurty and said, “I wish to God that I could make Bolton my VP. Then we could get things done! Unfortunately he is too far down the ladder and too unpopular. He would be even more acid than DeLay. I could just see the press calling us the Hitler brothers. But then again…..”
TO BE CONTINUED
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The complete book of 9/12/2001 is available from lulu.com under that exact title for $10.00 plus shipping. Now available as an e-book on lulu as well.