9/12/2001 – The Days After The Unthinkable Happened – Part 14

Part 14

(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 cleaners were already to tidy up after the meeting with the fat cats. Peterson was the only one left in the room. Cheney kept on talking; the vein of conversation had touched an important core in him and he would not stop it. He talked on, not realizing that Peterson was not in total agreement with what he said.

“We can’t allow these pussies to stop us. All of these these organizations, these deadbeats, these leeches, these beatniks, only hold us back from gaining the control and the power that we deserve. We are the motivating force. We are the ones getting things done. There is money to be made out there ladies and gentlemen. There is a type of gold in every acre of this land. We have oil under the seas, gold under the lands. We can’t have people sitting uselessly over coal, over iron, over silver.

They have got to be moved one way or the other. The oceans should be fair game. We should be able to drill any time when we want, where we want. Same with the land. If it isn’t being used, we should have the right to go in and use it. People don’t need that much space to live on any more unless you are a cattleman. You can put a family from the land in a 400 square foot apartment somewhere and they will do just fine.

And all this talk of pollution and global warming is baloney! Global warming is just a myth perpetrated by our enemies to stop us from advancing industrially so that they can go and grab the markets and the resources that we aren’t taking. As far as pollution goes, OK, we have to be careful not to poison ourselves, but who cares is a few animals get killed here and there? There will always be some left to make more babies. If the ocean gets polluted from an oil spill, wait a bit, the sea will clean itself.”

He snickered. “Hell, we are already getting oil out of tar sands in Canada, I guess we can use that technology to get it back out of beach sands too!”

“People bitch and moan about a few trees getting chopped down. So what? Trees grow back. It not like people who don’t come back. There are so many trees in Alaska and Canada that we couldn’t chop them all down if we wanted to. “

Peterson knew that nothing would come of saying anything, the Master had spoken and all were to just nod in agreement like good little boys. In his mind, though, his thoughts drifted back to the stories he had heard of Iceland, Greenland and Easter Island, of how they at one time had small groves of trees and how the peoples there had decimated them to the point that there was nothing left to shade these desolate islands. The very people themselves had not recognized the environmental apocalypse they were making and of how it would hurt them later.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” he interrupted, not caring if it upset Cheney. He just wanted to get away from this awful man. “I have some things to finish up.”

Cheney stopped in surprise. “Oh, sorry. Go ahead then.” He waved him off. But he knew that he had been cut short.

Peterson knew that he knew and didn’t care any more.

Cheney’s briefings were getting to be his favorite part of his Presidential duties. Everything went on behind closed doors and he was with his most trusted advisers. He could speak freely, separate from his public persona which didn’t allow colorful language.

“What is the situation in Nigeria? I understand even there there is terrorist activity against the oil company.”

“Well President Cheney, Shell Oil has been finding that villagers are breaking into the pipeline to get oil for cooking and lighting. As you can image in this sometimes leads to an explosion or poisoning from the raw oil, not to mention pollution. But they are by no means terrorists. There has been deliberate sabotage, but the indications are they are from villagers and people in the area who are angry over being pushed around by the oil company officials and the pollution resulting from the pipelines. There have been water sources polluted and fields with crops destroyed by leaks. Most of the breaks are small ones from people just wanting a little fuel that they can’t get otherwise.”

“Hah, so they even have environmentalists in Africa. The liberals must have spread their propaganda to there as well.” Cheney guffawed. Then he turned serious again. “How much disruption is this causing?”

“Nothing major, but the incidents are annoying and, of course, costly.”

There was no hesitation in Cheney’s reply, “All acts against Shell and the pipelines will be considered acts of terrorism. I don’t care if it is someones little ol’ grandma coming to to get some oil for her lamp, anyone touching that pipeline will be considered a terrorist and pay a terrorists price in prison. I want it put into their minds there that the oil works and any part of it is sacred. Taboo. No touchy touchy. Hammer it into their heads with whatever religion they use there- God will descend and eat them if they so much as lay a finger on it.”

“With all due respect, Mr. President, there is one aspect of this that is not being taken into account.”

“What is that Peterson?”

“Shell Oil pays out a pretty meager dividend that reaches the actual people of Nigeria. The vast amount of what they do distribute to the entity of Nigeria ends up in the pockets of the President and his ministers. Only a ridiculous dribble get beyond them.”

“Hmm… Well, do these ministers and President protect the business and allow Shell to drill where they want.”

“Umm, yes, they do.”

Cheney raises his hands in a ‘All is well’ gesture. “Well, then it is money well spent.”

Peterson kept a calm face beneath his demeanor as he answered “Yes, Mr. President.” but underneath he felt a growing dislike for the man.

Protesters were once again lined up along the front fence of the White House. They had been there for Bush, now there were even more there for Cheney. They had grown in ferocity since the Iraq invasion. And they had grown more personal. Whereas they had disliked Bush, they hated him. Rude placards carried his face in distorted Photoshoped reliefs, his name was slurred a hundred different ways. It was good that Wyoming breeds in its young men a thick skin, for all these insults only made him hate them back. This tradition of putting up with protesters in America was a luxury that would need to end. For now he would have to be patient with it. He didn’t need to infuriate middle of the road loyalists who would also turn against him if he censored them.

Cheney thought back to the days when he was in graduate school at Madison Wisconsin. He remembered the rebelliousness on campus at the Vietnam war and the black race riots. He did not look back with nostalgia as did so many these days, but rather with the memory of how irksome they were. He was there for the schooling; how could these other people have so much time on their hands for this silliness he thought? We were supposed to be there to work. He had no time for such nonsense. That these freaks should get serious about their studies he had thought even back then.

He looked out at the D.C. skyline before him and contemplated that now he was having to deal with this same sort of people again so much later in his life. Why do there always have to be these good for nothings to interfere with things? He would love to believe Rumsfeld’s stipulation that they were commies out to undermine the US, but Cheney knew better. But he also knew that they could help to bring down his Presidency, and he would not want that at all.

The heads of the Secret Service moved into the room quietly, expectantly, bravely, just as Cheney had known they would. He found it secretly amusing that these men, so bold and smart, fit and loyal, would so easily cow to whatever his orders were. It was like having obedient attack dogs that would do whatever you wanted for love and dog biscuits.

They all sat, expectant at his announcement. Cheney waited until all were still and attentive.

“There will be a new policy regarding dealing with attacks on the President. As of today you will be issued a secondary form of sidearm.” He flashed on the presenter. “The Cobalt .22 is a special gun designed for close in situations. Its bullets are meant specifically for short range use. Their purpose in our use would be to stop an assassin if he gets too close to me. A bullet from this gun would not exit the body of the assailant, but shatter within his body in an incapacitating way, normally not killing him, but stopping him cold. It would render enough pain and damage that it would stop the attack, but leave the person alive enough to be interrogated. The bullet is built to have a small entry point that would be fused from heat from the bullet minimizing blood loss. In other words, we want these assholes alive enough to find out why they are being such assholes.”

Chuckles broke out, relieving the stress that had accumulated in the room.

“The gun is a .22 gauge to ward off doing serious damage in the event of any missed shots hitting one of you guys or, God forbid, me!” He smiled one of his Cheney smiles at this. The men again laughed, but some felt an unease with this form of humor.

“In situations where the attacker is unstoppable or obviously deranged the new policy will be to aim for the head, neck or mid chest to stop him cold. If he’s that much of a bad ass we’ll have to do without the fun of an interrogation and just hope he has his driver’s license on his corpse.”

Again the laughter.

“Another change in policy. Anyone, I repeat anyone, in a circumstance where I am out on the street and not actually kissing babies and shaking hands, no one gets close. There are a lot of people out there who do not like me and would not mind having me meet one of their bullets or their fists. Anyone who gets too close- let him have it. I mean it. I get too many threats to pussy foot around. Everyone thinks these liberals are all soft skinned and bottle fed, but, believe me, there are plenty who would stop at nothing to off me. They aren’t always as lily-livered as we would like to think.”

Again there were some chuckles, but not as many as Cheney would have liked. But they got the message and they would obey, and that would make life a lot easier for Richard Cheney.

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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.

Author: rfreed

I was born and I died. Being a disembodied entity makes it very cheap for me to get by. Not having to worry about eating or having a place to live gives me a lot of freedom to squander my time writing occasionally funny articles. See more almost funny stuff at http://inyear252509.wordpress.com/