Overreach: Blood of Patriots

tenets.

Part One

Waking the Sleeping Giant

The Constitution is the guide I will never abandon.

—GEORGE WASHINGTON

Chapter

1

7:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Friday, July 14

Winchester, Virginia

THE COMPUTER BEEPED, SIGNALING THAT THE DOWNLOAD WAS complete. Ty Denham right-clicked on EJECT to make certain the index wouldn’t be corrupted, then removed the thumb drive and dropped it into a box. He then inserted a new thumb drive into the ruggedized laptop and clicked on COPY.

It was a slow and methodical process—transferring the same information to a thousand thumb drives. Ty had been making these copies for almost 24 hours without stop, and building the cache of documents included in each drive had taken weeks. Finally, the large box of empty USB sticks to his right was almost empty, and the equally large box of formatted and filled drives on his left was almost full.

It was time for a break.

He popped a four-milligram White Ice Mint Nicorette into his mouth, stood up, and stretched. The first rays of the sun coming through the small windows of his basement office surprised him; he’d worked through the night again.

He grabbed his coffee mug—still half-full of cold coffee—and walked upstairs to the kitchen for a fresh cup. It amused him that the cup had a picture of him in full dress Class A’s and the words, Someone Loves This Colonel. Please Handle Him With Care. His wife had it made for him before he retired, and every time he looked at it, he appreciated once again her unique combination of love and wit.

While the coffee was brewing, he leaned back against the kitchen counter and checked his smartphone. He scanned through his emails quickly, finding nothing he felt compelled to deal with. The news alerts were a different matter. There were four; all focused on the increasing tide of anger against President Lawton Chalmers.

Months of scandals boiling out of the current administration had infuriated Congress, resulting in a daily increase in the number of legislators denouncing one scandal or another on the floor or holding joint press conferences to demand more and tougher investigations. As a result, the number of declared votes for impeachment grew steadily higher. There were still enough of the President’s loyal supporters in the House to block the required two-thirds vote, but that margin was dwindling daily.

Committee chairs grilled the President’s nominees about their political philosophy while busy researchers dug through their background, looking for a mistake, an unpaid nanny, anything that could mean disqualification. Far more than the usual number of exclusive stories appeared in the papers: confessions from the mistresses of cabinet secretaries, photos of senior members of the Secret Service consorting with prostitutes on overseas trips, and details on the heavy-handed efforts by the administration to use political pull—and a well-stuffed campaign war chest—to force out the opposition candidates with the best chances of winning.

Ty reflected how he had assumed the rising tide of angry rhetoric was just another sad example of the fanatical partisanship that over the past decade had turned every negotiation into a deadlock. Ty’s study of history had taught him that all presidents who attempted to create meaningful change were met with a wall of resistance and a storm of accusations about their alleged abuse of the enormous power of the Oval Office. All you had to do was to look back at how bitter and personal the opposition had been to visionary leaders like Franklin Roosevelt, Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, and Ronald Reagan. Even if the changes they forced through were later seen as positive—at the time, these leaders were perceived as a hellish combination of the Politburo and the Anti-Christ.

During the more than twenty years he had spent in the military, Ty had simply ignored all this as endless political skirmishing that had little relevance to his duty to defend his beloved nation. Once he retired, he found that his days were no longer occupied with military paperwork and his nights were clear of both the tense boredom of surveillance and the adrenaline-rush of combat. For the first time in his life, Ty had the time to dig deeper into the politics he had always just treated as above his pay grade, and he had taken full advantage of it.

He sped through books and articles that went far beyond the simplistic bombast of television newscasters, he sought out and spoke with many of the investigators who were finding corruption at the very root of this administration, and he watched as fundamental rights were threatened, honest people’s careers were ruined, and power was steadily taken from the Legislative and Judicial Branches of government until the powers of the President grew dangerously close to those of a dictator.

Ty had put in decades of faithful service to Commanders-in-Chief from both parties, so it took hard evidence and a great deal of reflection and prayer for him to conclude that President Lawton Chalmers was different. The reforms that this President pursued were aimed at tearing apart the essential fabric of American society and inserting government deep into the most intimate aspects of the lives of honest citizens regardless of the impact on individual liberties. As far as Ty could tell, Chalmers had only contempt for the Constitution—a document that Ty felt was the indispensable framework that kept the United States unlike any other nation in the world.

The President had demonstrated his total disregard for the Bill of Rights with a massive program of illegal surveillance. Under his direction phone calls, emails, posted letters, and cell phone calls of even the most honest citizen were intercepted, collected, collated, and analyzed. Vast bureaucracies used GPS and cell tower triangulations to track the daily travels of ordinary families, others monitored everything from attendance at a gun show, to the television programs watched, and even the brand of laundry soap bought at the grocery store.

Of course, there was a constant effort to break the sanctity of the secret ballot, find out who gave money or knocked on doors, and ensure that any who were likely to vote against the President and his party found it extremely difficult to vote at all.

Ty felt that some of the surveillance could be seen as a necessary part of the endless battle against terrorists and their allies in foreign governments, but he was amazed at how far the government was trying to penetrate into the most personal details of everyday lives—that even private conversations with a physician were considered a public matter. He had also seen hard evidence of how much of the intelligence these programs gathered ended up being used to bully opponents, enrich the President’s allies, and ensure the permanent domination of a single political party.

This relentless abuse of presidential power for political gain had finally convinced Ty that Chalmers was capable of planning a takeover of the government. He was now convinced that it was no longer a question of whether, but when this President would tear up the Constitution, smash the system of checks and balances that had limited Executive power for two hundred years, and use violence to intimidate or simply eliminate any who would stand against him.

As he sipped his coffee, Ty wondered what had happened to the watchdogs that the Founding Fathers thought would safeguard against just such an event. It seemed as if the media had been swept off their feet by the President’s charm from the day he came into office because little opposition or even critical analysis met his proposed reforms. He’d known too many tough journalists who risked their lives to cover real wars to believe that their co-workers could be so biased that they would distort the facts to support the President. It was certainly clear that, whatever the reasons, surprisingly little coverage of even the most obvious cases of impropriety could be found in the national newspapers and the nightly television programs. Reporters who broke from the pack and dared to cover the financial scandals, the abuses of power, and the increasing centralization of power found themselves shunned by friends, attacked in op-ed columns, and vilified in social media.

In the past months, it had become increasingly clear—even to the more biased members of the media—that the evidence of genuine crimes was so widespread and well-documented that they could no longer be seen as the round of accusations and denials traditional in American politics.

In the past few weeks, respected civil servants testified under oath that the President’s political allies in government had used the Internal Revenue Service, the Justice Department, and even the extra-judicial powers of the Department of Homeland Security against his political foes.

House investigators had just revealed that the administration had not only used the National Security Agency, the CIA, and other intelligence agencies to spy on American citizens, they had also bugged congressional offices, intercepted the emails of news organizations, and listened in on the private phone calls of political opponents. Day after day, these experienced investigators presented solid evidence, testimony from current and former intelligence agents, and West Wing emails given up unwillingly under the power of subpoena.

In the end, Ty could no longer believe that these actions were being used to catch terrorists. He knew the real intent was to intimidate political opponents from powerful legislators down to the small town homemaker who dared to write a critical letter. Whether the purloined information involved sex, drunken excess, or public funds diverted to personal use, the fear that it would be revealed on the front pages was usually enough to quiet even the toughest politicians and the bravest private citizens.

It appeared to be getting worse. The investigators showed Ty solid evidence that information gleaned from these illegal actions was being used to force newspaper editors and television anchors to spike embarrassing stories and to steamroll local politicians and businessmen into supporting reforms that would drastically change virtually every aspect of American society. Even legislators were not immune; one after another, ardent opponents had turned into fanatic supporters overnight, a change they couldn’t explain to their former allies.

Ty thought, God knows, there isn’t a surplus of tough-minded people in Washington at the best of times. Most of them compromised their integrity for success long ago. Some senators have sold their votes so many times, there should be a red light over their office door.

He kept reading the news alerts as he headed back downstairs. Apparently, the tide was turning against Chalmers’ overbearing tactics. His approval rating had plunged to record lows and demands for his impeachment were now coming from both parties. The same reporters who had written so glowingly about him in the early years sensed the public mood, and their coverage of the White House was becoming increasingly hostile (or increasingly accurate, depending on your point of view). Front page stories in the papers and special reports on cable news channels were filled with righteous indignation as the press finally reported stories they had ignored earlier. Journalists who had been vilified for attacking the White House unfairly were now invited on talk shows and offered chances to write op-ed columns in the major papers.

In spite of the clamor, the President remained aloof, even arrogant. He refused to hold a press conference or answer questions on the rare occasions he was forced to face the cameras. In the meantime, his press staff worked feverishly to portray him as handling international and domestic crises, too busy attending to the public good to answer any of what they still insisted were politically-motivated accusations.

None of this silenced the growing chorus of critics.

None of it allayed Ty’s increasing sense of foreboding.

Chapter

2

7:15 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Friday, July 14

The Pentagon

KEN STRATTON HAD A RITUAL HE PERFORMED EVERY DAY BEFORE he began his work. He paused for a moment at the tall windows in the long hall and gazed at the section of slightly less weathered granite that was the only evidence of the jet airliner that Al Qaeda had crashed into the Pentagon during the terrorist strikes of 9/11.

Not on my watch, he promised silently.

Then he turned and opened the door marked General Kenneth Stratton, Chief of Staff of the Army. As usual, his senior aide, Lieutenant Colonel Calvin Washington, greeted him. Good morning, sir. Grab a cup of coffee. I just made a fresh pot of that morning blend your wife sent over.

Thanks, Cal, Stratton said as he poured coffee into an oversized white china mug. Got the morning report?

Yes, sir. Already on your desk.

Excellent, let’s see how the world has turned.

As he savored that fragrant first cup, he read that Iraq and Afghanistan were still in turmoil. He thought it wasn’t that surprising now that the last American and NATO troops had been withdrawn. After all, both nations had to deal with leaders in exile or assassinated, massive segments of critical infrastructure destroyed, and thousands killed.

Syria had finally cooled down. It helped that the deposed President had booked a late-night flight to Russia, but it was unclear who would form a new government in Syria, and anti-American radicals still held a worrisome number of cities. China had launched another rocket into orbit with definite military capabilities. He made a note in his personal computer to request an update on their projected military growth. Riots had exploded in the center of Athens over new austerity measures, but the government had managed to handle it with civilian police this time. Dozens had died when they had used troops.

He turned to the political section and saw that another legislator had flipped on the upcoming defense budget vote. Don’t these fools realize that these budget cuts are hell on our effectiveness?

He made a note to schedule a meeting this afternoon with the senior staffers on the Armed Services committee. Stratton leaned back in his leather chair and stretched. Budgets were always going to be a battle, but overall it was a great day to be a soldier.

Call from General Moser, on two, sir.

Really? It’s damned early for Thad to be calling. Do we know what the hell is so important?

No clue, sir. I checked in with his office first thing this morning, and Margie didn’t mention anything.

Stratton picked up the phone. Good morning, sir. How can I be of service this fine day?

The Chairman was clearly irritated, voice angry and clipped. Ken, clear your schedule for the entire day. The White House just called and ordered the Joint Chiefs to an immediate Situation Orange meeting in the Roosevelt Room.

What the hell is going on?

I have no idea, but you know damn well that a Situation Orange is immediate, mandatory, and no questions asked, Moser snapped. Cars and drivers are already heading to the River Entrance. You can ride with me if you’re there in five.

Yes, sir. Five minutes at the River Entrance. I’ll be there. From the click, Stratton knew the chairman had hung up before he’d finished talking. He looked at his watch and realized he was going to have to haul ass if he wanted to be on time. He buttoned his uniform, grabbed a hat, and left his office.

He barked orders as he swept through the outer office. I’m heading out. Clear my schedule for the whole day and tell General Taylor he has the morning briefing. Calvin, you should come if you can make the River Entrance in four minutes.

His senior aide looked surprised for a split second, and then he grabbed his laptop, checked his pockets to make sure he had his IDs, and ran out the door, scrambling into his jacket and hat as he pelted down the hall after his boss.

Chapter

3

1:30 p.m. Central European Summer Time

Friday, July 14

Brussels, Belgium

THE SILENT BLACK CARS SLIPPED THROUGH THE WROUGHT IRON gates and up past the screen of trees to the special private entrance. Bundled in overcoats and hats, five men entered the opulent mansion that housed the Permanent Representation of Germany to the European Union. They were relieved of their coats by silent and emotionless attendants in identical black suits and then greeted by the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of Germany, Dr. Edmund Gertz, and escorted to a conference room.

They made themselves comfortable around the magnificent hand carved conference table, an antique work of art where you could almost imagine the long-dead craftsmen laboring to achieve perfection. The room was tastefully decorated with light walnut paneling, crystal chandeliers, and heavy velvet curtains. The luxurious appointments were not only a reminder of the wealth and culture of their host. The electronic jammers behind the paneling, wide band signal sniffers in the chandeliers, and a layer of copper mesh woven into the drapes made the room totally secure.

Several of the diplomats reflected that the most recent revelations of American intelligence agencies eavesdropping on their international allies, made any assumption of security less certain than ever before.

Dr. Gertz looked around the table, noting with satisfaction that he had succeeded in gathering the most influential diplomats stationed in Brussels. Representatives from the United Kingdom, the Russian Federation, the People’s Republic of China, and the Federative Republic of Brazil were all seated and making small talk while they waited for him to explain why he had asked them here with such secrecy.

Servers placed a flute of champagne before each guest, and Dr. Gertz lifted his and said, Gentlemen, to peace on earth and prosperity for all our nations.

The ambassadors responded with raised glass and polite sip. Whatever the reason for this meeting, none thought it would be wise to imbibe in excess—regardless of how common that might be on other occasions.

After he put down the delicate champagne flute, Dr. Gertz became all business. "Gentlemen, I must apologize for inviting you here on such short notice. I respect that you all have extremely busy schedules, but I believe the topic of our discussion is one of serious concern to all of our countries. I propose that we spend the next hour reviewing the report you see in front of you. It was prepared by the Bundesnachrichtendienst, our nation’s foreign intelligence service, and it deals with some troubling information we have just received. It’s a situation that my country has been watching particularly closely, as I am sure you have as well, but it has suddenly moved into a new and far more dangerous phase."

He paused for a moment, appearing to be in deep thought but actually enjoying forcing the others to wait. In essence, we have been informed of an imminent threat to the very foundations of the United States government—a threat from within, I must stress. Now, we are not strong supporters of the Americans because of the thoughtless and arrogant manner in which they have behaved in recent years. I know this a feeling shared by many of the nations represented here.

The ambassadors made subtle indications of agreement. Dr. Gertz continued, However, we must face the fact that a world without a strong American presence will be, well, perhaps a better place in the long run, but certainly a completely unknown and potentially dangerous world for the foreseeable future. This is a matter of serious concern to our government, and I am sure to yours as well. The threat we present to you in this document is not only to the superpower status of the United States, but, hard as it may be to imagine, the possibility it may not survive as a sovereign nation. I realize that this runs contrary to what you are reading in the press or hearing at the United Nations, but we believe it is a very strong possibility. It is imperative that we consider what, if any, steps should be taken by… as he swept a hand indicating those seated around the table ...the other major world powers. Speaking for Germany, we not only believe a crisis in the United States is possible, we consider it probable, and we strongly recommend assessing and agreeing on actions we must be prepared to take in order to avert a global crisis in the absence of American leadership.

Dr. Gertz paused as if to gather confidence. The German government is proposing that limited military action within the borders of the United States should be placed into consideration.

A sharp intake of breath from the Brazilian diplomat as the others simply continued to watch their host with intense concentration. The reports in front of you are highly-condensed, but we consider our information and analysis to be conclusive. If you all could take a moment to read this document, we can then begin to discuss what can be done if, and, I repeat if, the events they predict come to pass.

Sitting farthest from the host, Ambassador Xu Zhiyuan of the People’s Republic of China nodded his agreement and opened the report. He bent his head to the papers enclosed, but in reality, he had seen the report days before. Chinese computer hackers were better than the code breakers at NSA, and they had been sweeping all international communications for many years. At first, he had been insulted when the German had placed him in the third seat on the left side of the table, but now he appreciated the opportunity to study the faces of the other five ambassadors as they read the report.

Ambassador Xu was amused to watch surprise, incredulity, and fear flash across their faces. He wondered, Why can’t Westerners learn to control their emotions? He thought of the long harsh training he’d endured as a child at the People’s School for Foreign Influence and Control—training that allowed him to present a smooth mask to the world. Now, no hint crossed his face of the unparalleled surge of triumph and admiration he was feeling for his country. The disaster that was fast approaching Washington was not of China’s making, but generations of his fellow citizens had worked their entire lives so that they could take full advantage of the ensuing chaos.

The American Century was coming to a swift and terrible end.

The 21st century would belong to China.

Chapter

4

10:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Friday, July 14

The White House

WHITE HOUSE CHIEF INFORMATION OFFICER ROBERT GEEK Gearling rubbed at three days’ stubble on his jaw. For the first time in hours, he looked around his tiny office and noticed the rubble of takeout meals, empty cans of super-energy drinks, and ripped bags of chips and candy that covered the wall-to-wall carpet around his custom-made workspace with its three top-speed networked computers. White House offices weren’t supposed to look like this, but he never allowed anyone into his inner sanctum. He’d even taken the sign with his name off the door.

Geek, a name he wore with pride, truly believed he had one of the best jobs in the country. Now, with his greatest computer exploit designed, tested, and installed, he took a moment to pat himself on the back.

He’d entered MIT at 16 and departed at 18 when it was clear that he had nothing to learn from his professors. He kick started a social media company with two of his roommates, sold it for a small fortune, moved up the executive ranks of three Silicon Valley giants, and finally cashed in at 26 with a large fortune.

Seeking a new and different challenge, he’d signed on to the presidential campaign of a long shot candidate. His genius for the effective manipulation of social media—especially behind the scenes where the zombie armies he created could turn public opinion 180 degrees with their tireless posting, tweeting, and chatting—was recognized, and he was made the campaign’s chief technology officer. Robert took his job seriously, worked day and night, and single-handedly created the false groundswell that resulted in a twenty percent lead among younger voters. After the victory at the polls, it was only natural that he was given his current position.

Of course, the millions of dollars he had donated through a network of companies that existed only in cyberspace hadn’t hurt.

When the President had asked him if it was possible to install a simple switch that would instantly shut off all telephone, Internet, and cellular communications in the United States as well as silence—at least for a time—broadcast radio, television and cable channels, he’d seen it as a challenge worthy of his talents. After two months of backbreaking work—done without the help or even the knowledge of his assistants—the system was in place and the nearly invisible wood-covered switch had been installed on the leg of the historic Resolute Desk, next to the President’s right hand.

Most of his work was new, but some simply relied on pre-existing regulations. Radio and television broadcasters were still operating under old Cold War protocols like the Emergency Broadcast System that allowed the government to order them off the air. Everyone would hear the familiar phrase, in case of a real emergency, you would be told where to tune for official news and instructions. All Geek had to do was ensure that the electronic beep that told the stations they could return to regular programming was never sent.

Cable would be trickier, but everything was sent by satellite to the head-ends, and from there, programs traveled on lines to each household. No satellite link, no cable feed.

The previous administration had signed off on an executive order that established Standard Operating Procedure 303 (usually referred to as SOP 303). If SOP 303 was put into effect, an emergency message would go out to all cellular companies in a particular city, state, region, or even the nation, telling them to shut down service to the public and clear the cellular frequencies. It was intended to be used in a national emergency or terrorist attack, but there was no requirement to consult with a judge or a congressional committee. Instead, SOP 303 specifically mandated the decision to shut down cellular service will be made by the Department of Homeland Security advisors, their designees, and representatives of the Department of Homeland Security Operations Center.

Conservative and liberal activists had fought against the order, but their requests for essential information had been blocked: how it would work and whether the cellular companies had the technology to restore cell service after a shutdown. Public awareness of SOP 303 had spread when Homeland Security had apparently shut down. Houston’s cellular service after two admirers of the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing were arrested as they attempted to set off another truck bomb filled with fertilizer and diesel oil. Luckily, their bomb went off harmlessly in a parking lot.

When the two were captured, they boasted of a second bomb and said that several members of their cell were still at large. They also said that the intended target had been the hundreds of thousands of people attending the Houston Livestock Show.

When news of the bomb leaked, thousands of panicked citizens attempted to use their cellphones and found they were unable to get through. Some speculated that authorities had invoked SOP 303 to prevent the second bomb being triggered by a cell phone, but security officials insisted that too many people attempting to reach the three local cell towers simultaneously had caused the outage. In the end, it turned out that the terrorists were lying; they had no confederates and no second bomb.

Geek knew that SOP 303 may well not have been invoked in Houston, but it was still a lawful procedure that could lock down the nation’s cell phones in seconds. It was the perfect example of the old Washington adage: if you are thinking about a new law that would give the President more power, just imagine it with your worst political enemy in the Oval Office.

A whistleblower had released stolen papers showing that, since 9/11, NSA had been monitoring everything that passed through the hubs at the major communications companies. With their own server and routing centers installed permanently in all the central telecom server farms and software backdoors, kill switches, and hardware diverters built right into the private systems, NSA had already attained control over digital transmissions. The administration justified this to Congress by referring to a law passed a month after Pearl Harbor.

Geek knew that, with these tools, he could easily take down most of the Internet. The problem was that it had been designed by the Defense Department’s Advanced Research Agency back in the 1960s as a failsafe communications system to keep passing vital messages even after a nuclear attack. The innovation that was the foundation of the whole system was that every part of every message would find its own path to its destination. If the quickest route were blocked, it would automatically seek an alternate path. If a message had to be sent around the world to reach the house next door, that’s exactly what would happen.

Geek had met with the biggest Internet providers and the telephone companies that controlled the long-line fiber circuits they used and browbeaten them into agreeing to obey a Presidential order to shut down. After all, it wasn’t anything new, under the Communications Assistance for Law Enforcement Act, Carnivore servers had been installed in all the major telephone operations centers and data hubs on September 12, 2001. He knew he could shut down the big domestic connection hubs and international routers; a lot of computer connectivity was dependent on the telephone companies and would go down when they did.

The problem was that the Internet was not only enormous but also incredibly complex. The leading providers had redundant routers and miles of unused dark fiber lines, and they interconnected with other providers at millions of separate points. Even if a service provider wanted to shut down the system, it could take hours to get the message out. In addition, among some 4,000 Internet service providers in the United States, many were small mom and pop operations, not only difficult to reach but often with firm ideas about freedom of information.

Less-developed nations had been successful in cutting off the Internet in times of civil unrest because they had very few lines carrying data in and out of the country, and their governments had centralized electronic services when they were being built for just such an eventuality. Individuals, not the government, had built the American Internet, and they had anticipated censorship and centralized control as political and technological problems. What it finally came down to was that the Internet was designed to thwart the sort of political shutdown the President wanted.

After working on the problem for weeks, Geek had to admit defeat for the first time in his life. He asked for a meeting with the President and confessed that he simply couldn’t see a way to provide 100 percent instant shutdown. They were talking in the private study just off the Oval Office, and the President swung around and looked out the window for a few moments. Then he snapped his fingers and turned back. I’ve got it. Shut the damn power down.

Geek thought he must have misunderstood. You mean cause a blackout? Where?

Everywhere! The President responded. Shut down every damn coal boiler, water turbine, solar array, windmill, and nuclear reactor in the whole country. It’s perfect! We’ll not only crash the Internet, but anyone who still wants to challenge me will be working without communications, information, and lights. I’ll be able to keep the whole damn country in the dark. Literally!

As Geek left, he could hear the President laughing.

Geek knew that crashing the enormous and complex power grid of the United States wasn’t going to be easy, but he hoped that the people who ran the power companies and the high-tension lines were patriotic citizens who would respond favorably to a Presidential order. But in several days of high-level top-secret meetings, Geek found to his surprise they would rather ignore a request