“I’m very serious. They were running this country right into the ground, and I couldn’t be happier now that they’re dead.”
“It doesn’t scare you in the slightest that some group of terrorists has decided to circumvent the democratic process?”
“One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.”
“Did you learn that one from the IRA?” Olson regretted the shot before he’d finished making it. It was not a good idea to provoke Seamus.
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Seamus sat like a rock, his eyes burrowing deeper and deeper into Olson’s, his large fist clenched on top of the table. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Seamus O’Rourke was financially involved with the Irish Republican Army in the years following World War II.
Seamus was born in Ireland and moved to the United States with his parents at a very young age. He believed strongly in Ireland’s right to self-rule and thought Britain’s conquest of Ireland was no different from their conquest of India or any of the other colonies. He supported the IRA’s paramilitary efforts until they started setting off bombs and killing innocent people. That was too much. Fighting for independence like a disciplined soldier was one thing, fighting for it like a cheap thug was another.
Olson broke the silence. “You don’t really think what these assassins have done is justifiable?”
“Not only do I think it’s justifiable, I think it’s necessary.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I mean, I know you don’t like politicians, Seamus, but you can’t really believe those men deserved to die.”
“I do.”
“Have you lost all faith in the democratic process, in the people’s ability to effect change by voting?”
“The system has become too complicated and corrupt. Every single candidate lies to get elected and then sells his soul to the parasite special-interest groups who gave him the money to run his campaign.
The two-party system has made change impossible. No one’s willing to face the real problems and do what’s right.”
“I acknowledge that things could be better, but we still have the best leadership and political system in the world.” Seamus laughed out loud.
“That’s debatable, and even if you’re right, it won’t be true for long.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Look at the numbers, Erik. We’re going bankrupt, both morally and financially. We need some drastic changes, or the most powerful country in the world is going to go the way of Rome.”
“And violence is the way to bring that change about?” Seamus rubbed his chin.
“Maybe.”
Olson shook his head sideways. “Violence is not the answer.” The Senator looked out the window as if Seamus didn’t deserve the courtesy of eye contact. “Violence is never
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the answer.” Seamus’s complexion reddened, and he slammed his fist down on the table.
The silverware, plates, and glasses shook, and the Secret Service agents at the next table snapped their heads around. Seamus ignored them and leaned toward Olson. “Erik, I don’t mind a healthy debate, but don’t ever use a line of crap like that on me again. I’m not one of your na№ve college students, and I’m not some little sycophant political activist.
I’ve seen people killed, and I’ve killed people in the service of our country. Your idealistic, philosophical theories might fly in the hallowed halls of Congress, but they don’t work in the real world.
Violence is a fact of life. There are people who are willing to use it to get what they want, and in order to stop them they need to be met with violence. If it wasn’t for war, or the threat of waging war, people like Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin would be running the world, and you would get shot for going around saying stupid things like ‘violence only begets violence.”” Olson was embarrassed. He was not used to being spoken to in such a manner. The oldest O’Rourke took words more seriously than most people, and Olson had forgotten that the art of debate, as it was practiced in Washington, did not work on men and women who had no time for political posturing.
Seamus O’Rourke was not a man to be patronized with political or philosophical slogans. Olson exhaled deeply and said, “Seamus, I apologize. The last couple of weeks have been very hard on me, and I’m not feeling very well.” Seamus nodded his head, accepting the apology.
Olson sat back and rubbed his eyes. “This entire thing is wearing me down.” Michael placed a hand on the Senator’s shoulder. “Erik, are you all right?”
“Physically, yes. mentally, I’m not so sure.” His hands dropped limply to his lap.
“You’re right about the debt, Michael. You’ve been harping on me about it for years, and deep down inside I always knew you were right. I just thought that when things got tough the two parties would put aside their differences and do what was right. Well, I was wrong.
Here we are in the midst of the biggest peacetime crisis we’ve seen since the
Depression, and what do we do? We come up with some gimmick that’s meant to deceive the American people and these damn assassins!”
Olson stopped and shook his finger. “And it’s all the President’s and that damn Stu
Garret’s fault! At the one time when we really need leadership, we have none. Those two self-centered idiots are running around taking opinion polls, if you can believe it!”
