everybody. I kid because I love. Here, look.” He picked up his shot glass and downed whatever brownish liquor it was filled with, then held up the empty in a toast of sorts. “Here’s to new friends, and maybe a new fan.”
Noah picked up his glass and sipped it. “I’m sorry, you said a new fan?”
“Yeah, man.” He held out his hand in introduction, and Noah shook it. “Danny Bailey.” He seemed to wait for a sign of dawning recognition, and got none. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the video.”
Noah blinked, and shook his head.
“Overthrow, man, the video. It’s gonna bring on the total downfall of the whole frickin’ evil empire, thirty-five million views on YouTube. That’s me. I’m shocked, you really haven’t seen it? There’s e-mails about me flying around all over the Internet.”
“Well,” Noah said, “I guess I’ve got a really good spam filter.”
For a long moment the legendary Danny Bailey looked like he’d just been double-smacked across his face with the ceremonial dueling gloves.
“Down, boys,” Molly said.
Bailey let the air between them simmer just a little while longer. Then he smiled and shook his head, picked up the shot glass in front of Molly, drank its contents in one gulp, and got up to leave. He leaned down and kissed Molly on the cheek, whispered something elaborate in her ear, and then looked across to Noah.
“Lots of luck,” Bailey said.
“Hey, really, you too.”
With the other man gone Noah turned to Molly and tapped the lip of her empty glass. “Can I get you another one?”
“No, I don’t drink. That’s why he did that; he wasn’t being rude.”
“Oh no, not at all.”
“Danny’s a good guy, he’s just living in the past of this movement, I think. I’m not telling you anything that I haven’t said to him. You’ll see what I mean when he speaks tonight. He doesn’t have much of a BS-filter, and he gets people fired up about the wrong things, when there are plenty of real things to fight against. But, there’s no denying he gets a lot of attention.”
“Just my opinion,” Noah said. “but it’s a pretty informed one. You should be careful who you associate yourselves with. In PR we have a saying that the message is irrelevant if you don’t choose the right messenger. And it’s not always true, you know, that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” She looked him over. “I’m glad to see that shirt fits you so well.”
“Yeah, I’m an off-the-rack medium-large,” Noah said, placing his bundle of wet things on the now-vacant barstool between them. “Thanks again.”
She nodded. “I’m happy you came. Now”-she scooted a few inches closer-“tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”
Noah answered instinctively. “I will if you will.”
Molly seemed to think about that for a moment. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He bit his lip as if in deep thought, considering what to choose as a first revelation. “I have an almost supernatural ability to tell when a person is hiding something.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do. While the other kids went to Cub Scouts I was sitting behind one-way glass eating M &Ms and watching about a million focus groups. I know people.” He thumped his temple with an index finger. “Human lie detector.”
“Prove it.”
Noah looked briefly around the bar and then settled on one man and studied him for a few seconds. “All right. Behind you, over your left shoulder, halfway to the exit sign. Muscle shirt, pirate earring, loose coat, and a blond biker mullet. Be discreet.” She turned to look, and then her eyes came back to him. “He’s not one of you. If that’s not an infiltrator, I’ve never seen one before.”
Molly turned her head again. When she turned back she didn’t look impressed; she looked troubled, and then angry.
“Calm down,” Noah said. “What do you think, there’s not going to be a spy or two from the enemy camp at a thing like this?”
“It’s not right.”
“Come on, forget about it,” he said. “So, I went first, now tell me something about you.”
Molly nodded, took a deep breath, and then climbed up to stand on the seat of her stool and shouted across the bar. “Hey, you!” She pointed to the man in question, who had turned to face her along with most of those nearby. “Enjoying the show, are you? Look, everybody! We’ve got a Benedict Arnold in the house!”
From the malevolent look on the guy’s face, getting publicly busted was one of his least favorite things to do on a Friday night. To a rising chorus of jeers from others around him, with a last venomous glance at her over his shoulder he abruptly packed it in and headed for the door.
Molly sat back down, with a sweet, vocal sigh.
“Something about myself… let me see.” She leaned forward, closer to Noah, as though about to share a secret nobody knew.
“I can sometimes be a little impulsive,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 10
The jukebox abruptly faded down to silence and a female speaker took the stage. She was maybe fifty-five years old, with a bright, easy confidence in her eyes. The honest beauty she must have enjoyed in her younger days was still shining through, but mellowed and matured with the years. She waited until some of the noise subsided and then stepped to the microphone.
“As I look out at you all, I remember what James Madison said of his country in those early days: ‘The happy union of these states is a wonder; their Constitution a miracle; their example the hope of liberty throughout the world.’”
The applause that followed was loud and enthusiastic. With a gesture she quieted the room and continued.
“The U.S.A. was that example for many years, my friends, and I promise you, we can be again. But today we’re facing a threat to our future unlike anything seen since the days of the first revolution.
“There are a hundred conspiracy theories that try to explain what’s happened to us over the last century. I’ve seen many of these theories represented here tonight, in the speeches, in person, and in slogans on signs all around this room. All of us are trying to make sense of the same damning evidence. But I’m afraid that sometimes we see only the symptoms, and not the disease.
“That disease is corruption, plain and simple. Corruption is a virus, always floating in the halls of power, ready to infect and spread among those whose immune systems are compromised by greed and blind ambition. This is the way it’s always been, and our system of government was made like it was, with a division of powers among three separate branches of government, all constrained by limited scope and common-sense principles. Our founding documents established this new form of government to protect us from the sickness that has destroyed freedom since the dawn of civilization: the inevitable rise of tyranny from the greed and gluttony of a ruling class.
“The enemy we now face is the same enemy that’s always sought to enslave free people. This threat isn’t new. Human history is a chronicle of the struggle of the people against oppression by the few. Those few are always among us, in every generation, waiting for an opportunity to step forward and seize power. Thomas Sowell presented our struggle clearly: ‘The most basic question is not what is best, but who shall decide what is best.’
“You don’t need to create a conspiracy theory to explain what’s going on around us today. The ruling class has written and published their plans and their history, as plain as day.”
She picked up and held out a massive hardbound book.
“This book is titled Tragedy and Hope. It’s nearly fourteen hundred pages of the history and the relentless goals of the enemy. We know this book holds the truth because it’s not a wild piece of fiction written by one of us; it’s a
