A Time for Patriots

“Can you round them up again?” Ann asked.

“We may be able to, ma’am, but they’ve scattered,” Fuller said.

“When do you hope to take this group down, Director?” Ann asked.

Fuller spread his hands. “We’re almost at square one with the Knights, ma’am,” he replied. “It took several months to get a confidential informant close enough to make a buy for the radioactive materials, and now he’s dead. Local law enforcement is plainly scared because of the group’s power and reach — the sheriff’s department lost more men than the FBI that morning. They destroyed four helicopters and killed twelve officers.”

“God,” Phoenix said under his breath. The president paused, then rubbed his temples in frustration. “And all this because of my economic austerity programs. People are out of work, and there is very little or no government to help them, so they resort to banding together to share whatever little they have. And if they feel they’re not getting enough protection from the government, they turn to violence.”

Ann looked to the FBI director, giving him a silent order. Fuller caught the glance and said to the president, “If there’s nothing else, sir, I’ll get back to work.”

“Of course, Justin, of course,” Phoenix said. He stood and shook hands with Fuller. “Let me know when the funerals for your agents will be — I’d like to attend.”

“Of course, sir,” Fuller said, then turned and left the Oval Office.

“What a loss he’s suffered,” Phoenix said somberly after the FBI director departed. “It’s got to be crushing him.”

“I’m more worried about you, Ken,” Ann said directly. “You’re blaming yourself for what this nut-job group did yesterday? Are you insane?”

Phoenix’s eyes flared at his vice president’s words. “These extremist groups didn’t exist before my austerity programs went into effect, Ann…”

“Of course they did, Ken,” Ann snapped. “But law enforcement went after them more than they do today. How? By borrowing trillions of dollars, raising taxes, or printing money, that’s how. Your programs, your decisions, your leadership stopped the destructive financial practices that were driving local, state, and the federal government into the ground . Less government. Across-the-board spending cuts. Across- the-board tax cuts. No bailouts for failed institutions or irresponsible actions. All of that has been good for the country. Right-minded folks can see real hope out there.

“But there will always be whack-jobs and extremists who see the continued unemployment and the disparities between the haves and the have-nots and conclude that government isn’t working and they need to take the law into their own hands,” Ann went on. “You can’t reason with them or try to understand them, and you certainly can’t look at their murderous actions and blame yourself. The only thing you can do is use every resource at your command to stop them.”

She went over to Phoenix and softly put a hand on his shoulder — an unexpectedly gentle gesture, Phoenix immediately thought suspiciously. As if verifying his doubts, she then said sharply, “So snap out of this funk, Ken. I know you well enough to know this is unlike you. I know as former attorney general that you’re close to law enforcement in general and the FBI in particular, but you can’t let those cops’ deaths keep you from forgetting to lead . I don’t want to see you wallowing in self-pity, Mr. President — I want to see you act .”

He looked directly into her eyes and recognized exactly how serious she was, then nodded and said, “Sometimes I regret giving you permission to always respond openly, honestly, and directly to me, Ann… but this is not one of those times.” She slapped him on the side of the shoulder, pleased with his response and with the return of his positive attitude. Phoenix returned to his desk. “We need to give the FBI all the resources they need,” he said. “If Fuller’s got hundreds of extremist groups spread out over the West, he’s going to need unmanned aircraft, surveillance equipment, sensor operators… all the stuff we were using in Iraq to monitor the borders.”

“I’m sure the Air Force and Army would love to assist the FBI,” Ann said. “I’ll call a meeting and get it set up.”

“I remember that defense contractor Dr. Jon Masters had the equipment to be able to provide precise surveillance of several hundred thousand square miles of varying terrain in Iraq from one aircraft,” Phoenix said. “Find out if he can assist. I’m not sure if there’s any money in the budget to pay him anything, but maybe he’d be willing to make a donation.” Ann smiled, nodded, and made notes to herself on her PDA. While she did this, the president’s attention was drawn back to his computer monitors, one of which was still playing a replay of the Cybernetic Infantry Devices’ incredible activities at the crash site in Reno.

“Ann, I need you to contact the Justice Department and the solicitor general and get a ruling on something,” Phoenix said.

“Regarding what, Mr. President?” When he didn’t reply right away, Ann turned toward him, then followed his gaze to the computer monitors. “The robots? What about them?”

“I know they’ve been in action in the Middle East and Africa, but do you remember the last time they were used inside the United States?”

“Of course I do: San Diego, during the implementation of the guest-worker identification program. They were afraid of mass riots and violence on both sides of the border against the Nanotransponder Identification System, so the robots were deployed around the city.”

“And?”

“It was a nightmare , that’s what,” Ann said. “People were more afraid of the robots than of the rioters.” She paused in thought, then said, “I’m not sure if the president issued an executive order banning their use within the United States, but I remember the hue and cry against them was pretty intense after that. Why?”

“The FBI needs help in taking on these extremist groups,” Phoenix said. “The FBI’s budget has been cut by fifty percent, just like everyone else’s budget, and that Knights group seems much more heavily armed and just as connected as the FBI. Maybe it’s time for the FBI to get some additional firepower. Why stop at UAVs and sensors?”

“Give the robots to the FBI?” Ann asked incredulously. She thought about it, her expression seeming to indicate a firm rejection of the idea… and then after a few moments, she nodded. “Send them out west, into more isolated parts of Northern California and Nevada…”

“If they go into the cities, they can do humanitarian assistance stuff like they’re doing on TV,” Phoenix said. “I think most folks like to watch those things searching that building — I know I can’t stop watching that replay. I’m so amazed that one robot got up out of that wreckage and walked away as easily as if he had jumped into a haystack. But we keep them operating in the countryside, far from population centers, unless they’re needed. They have excellent speed and maneuverability.”

“But no weapons,” Ann said. “I think the thing that freaked people out most in that San Diego deployment were those weapon packs they wore — once people realized they were carrying enough machine guns and missile launchers to take on a squadron of tanks, they were scared. The FBI has plenty of firepower — the robots can be their equalizers.”

Phoenix wore a pained expression. “I hate tying their hands, Ann,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “I think it would best left as a judgment call by the task force commander. If he’s faced with threats like advanced weapons or dirty bombs, the robots should be armed appropriately.”

“That might be a hard sell to Congress or the American people,” Ann observed. “But after the attack in Reno, maybe they’ll be open to giving the FBI and Homeland Security more gadgets.”

“Agreed. I think the robots would have a much smaller footprint than the Army or Air Force.”

“I’ll put together a proposal and send it up to the leadership in Congress,” Ann said. “Of course, they’ll tweak it to make it sound like their idea.”

“Fine with me.”

“Speaking of Reno and reopening the airspace: Director Fuller passed on an interesting tidbit of information to me,” Ann said with a sly smile. “There was an airspace violation east of Reno the morning after the attack.”

“There was ?” the president asked incredulously. “Does he think it was connected to the attack in Reno?”

“No, although they are still investigating,” Ann said. “But guess who was involved?” Phoenix shook his head — he knew Ann Page hated guessing games, and now that she was indulging in one with him, it got his attention. “Patrick McLanahan.”