Hay Adams Bar – Washington D.C.
Later that night at nine o’clock, Billy and Rosie are in the bar waiting for their rendezvous with Shane McGregor, the counterintelligence/counterterrorism director in the Russia House division of the CIA. Rosie is a bit nervous awaiting the encounter. She has never met or interviewed the reclusive and secretive spymaster; but has only watched him in archival news video clips in testimony on C-SPAN. She has heard, however, all the apocryphal, inside the Beltway stories of the power the young intelligence chief wields in the corridors of official Washington. Billy and he are friends and associates, as Billy cautiously describes their relationship.
Shane is—as Billy characterizes him to Rosie—an unapologetic, flag-waving patriot. He takes his job—the national security of the United States—seriously. He understands that the Congress has a constitutionally mandated oversight responsibility. However, he does not—as the expression goes—suffer fools gladly. This has at different times in the past put him at serious cross purposes with certain members on both sides of the aisle in the House and Senate intelligence committees. Rosie recalls from the CSPAN clips what she thought were some amusing highlights of his verbal skirmishes with senators and congressmen from his different appearances before the various congressional oversight committees at which he had testified.
From its very inception, The Bad King’s administration has been a political disaster, a nightmare embarrassment to the nation, and a serious national security threat. The president has on numerous occasions, both in public and private, pooh-poohed the very real threat that Russia poses to the nation’s strategic interests. He has stated publicly on at least a couple of occasions that he prefers to believe his Russian counterpart over the advice of his own intelligence officials. At two different summit occasions, the president confiscated the notes of his interpreter and later refused to divulge to intelligence officials or state department personnel the essence of his private conversations with the Russian dictator. Members of his campaign had numerous—more than a hundred—contacts with the Russians during the campaign and then lied about all of them when questioned by the FBI. The president’s former campaign manager, Paul Manafort, met a suspected Russian agent in a New York City cigar bar, passed along campaign polling information to the Russian, and then later denied there was ever a meeting.
The president’s own daughter and son-in-law were not able to pass the standard background checks for top-level security clearances. The Bad King, in fact, broke with established procedure and all the usual protocols and intervened to overrule the rejection advise of staff security specialists, an unprecedented twenty-five times, to grant top-level security clearances for his daughter, Princess Glam, and son-in-law, the Court Jester, and members of his White House team. As a further rebuke to the intelligence community, the president last year fired the Director of National Intelligence, a holdover from the prior administration, and appointed a political toady with no intelligence experience. The president also threatened to pull the security clearance of the former CIA director because of criticism directed at him by the retiring director.
Rosie recognizes the CIA man as soon as he enters the room. At forty-seven-years-old—medium height and build, with a shock of unruly, reddish-brown hair—his youngish face retains a preppy youthfulness, and he is known around Washington for his striking resemblance to Robert Kennedy. As he approaches the table where they are seated, Billy and Rosie both stand to shake hands. Billy handles the introductions. Once they are all seated, the CIA chief addresses himself first to Rosie.
“I’m a big fan,” he says beaming a big smile. “I’ve watched you on TV, and I have been looking forward to meeting you, young lady.”
“Likewise,” Rosie graciously responds, “from all Billy has told me, I—too—have been looking forward to our meeting,”
The spy looks down with a covetous eye at the file on the table in front of Rosie. “Is that it—the Red Dragon file?” he asks.
Rosie sighs, makes a little nod. “Yes,” she says, sliding it across the table in front of Shane. Normally a top-secret document like this could be expected to be marked Eyes Only. But this one has no such cryptic designation.
The CIA man looks meaningfully at Billy and Rosie. “If this is what I think, it will shake the pillars of Washington to their foundation.”
Shane opens the cover, briefly scans the first page, and then says, “Project: Red Dragon” is just a whisper in official Washington, so sensitive I did not even believe that a file like this existed. I am surprised that anyone dared to even put the details down on paper. Do you mind if I take this back to Langley? I’d like to have my team go over it.”
“Not at all,” Rosie replies. “Frankly, I wish I’d never seen it.”
“Scott dared,” Billy responds, “. . . that’s why he’s dead. If the contents of that file were ever to leak to the press,” he gives an exculpatory nod toward Rosie, “it would topple the current president before the voters even get the chance to turn him out in the fall.”
Shane looks to Rosie, “I’m sorry for what happened to your friend, Scott.”
Again, Rosie gives a heavy sigh. “Scott was a big boy,” she says with a sense of resignation. “He knew the danger he had created for himself—the dark and often dishonest nature of the people he was dealing with inside the administration. But, like you, he was a patriot. He believed that someone had to blow the whistle on the treason that the president and his Russian puppet master were—and still are, in fact—planning.”
“Our current president was a most unfortunate choice for the country. In the intelligence community he’s referred to as The Bad King. Like the English king John who inspired the Magna Carta and the Baron Wars,” the CIA man says, ruefully providing the historical reference. “The Russian dictator is Tsar Peter,” he adds.
Rosie frowns. “The Russians are—if you read the report—quite desperate it would appear to keep the president in power.”
Shane nods. “That’s an understatement. Right now, the Republicans are getting killed on health care, and their reproductive rights position will, I suspect, be unpopular with women. These are two basic issues, besides voting rights and transgender issues that could tip the election scale in favor of the Democrats. The Russian president, Tsar Peter,” he says with a little laugh, “needs to keep the current administration in power so he can continue to prosecute his plan for world dominion—the restoration of Russia as a super-power. Sadly, the president of the United States is the Russian dictator’s pawn—the key to his plan. If he loses in the upcoming election—and this is not hyperbole— there will be chaos, a revolution in America, a civil war, much like what happened in Russia in 1917 when the Bolsheviks came to power.”
He stops and pauses. “Too bad for the country. The Bad King is already setting the stage by telling his followers not to trust the results of the election if it goes against him.”
Rosie agrees, “I’ve been out with him already on the campaign trail. I’ve watched how easily he can incite these people—turn them to violence.”
Shane reminds Billy and Rosie how the president has for some time been attacking the intelligence community—disparaging the dedicated career people in the FBI and CIA, and other related intel agencies who go to work every day to protect the country—telling his rabid, right-wing followers that they are enemies of freedom, and all Deep State conspirators and traitors trying to discredit his administration.
Looking both at Billy and Rosie, and indicating the file on the table in front of him, “You’ve both read this I presume?” Shane asks,
Together they respond, Billy and Rosie both nodding.
Pausing briefly for dramatic effect, Shane says, “Well, it’s even more nefarious than you think.”
“What do you mean, Shane?” Billy asks with a puzzled look. “What can be more nefarious than a plot to start a civil war in order to overturn the established order—destroy the democratic institutions of governance in the United States?”
The old CIA spymaster explains. “The report, I’m sure, talks about violent confrontations between liberal protesters and rabid MAGA supporters—conservative Tea Party followers, hate-filled anti-Semites, bigoted racists, and angry white supremacists—and the spread of violence across the country. Race riots and cities on fire. This will—as it is intended—incite fear and cause the people to call for a “law and order” crackdown. This, of course, will play right into Tsar Peter’s hands. It will allow the president, as a lame duck, to declare a national emergency, invoke the insurrection clause, call out the military to restore order, and declare martial law. There will be—if he loses—no peaceful transition of power to a new government. He will proclaim the election a fraud. The message to his supporters will be that it was stolen. And just as Project: Red Dragon lays out in the file—this will be the end of American democracy and the beginning of a totalitarian, authoritarian dictatorship under a U.S. president—but at the direction of his Russian puppet master.”
Again, the CIA chief pauses for affect. “But that’s just half of it. The president of the United States is a moron,” Shane says with disdain. “He’s been called that by people within his own cabinet. But the Russians are not taking any chances on him winning the election. In the last year, as close as we can estimate, as many as 4,000 – 5,000 Russian insurgents have come into the country. By the time of the election, the number could be as high as 10,000 trained paramilitary agitators. This is a purposeful and deliberate policy of the administration. It has happened quietly and secretly under a program sponsored by the White House and operated through the U.S. Immigration Service. We only became aware of it at the CIA when our analysts noticed a big spike in the number of green card applications being approved. Mostly these have been from Russia, but they are from all parts of the world—Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Many that we have so far identified are former Russian commandos—mercenaries that had been put into Syria to attack U.S. oil facilities operating there. After they were routed—with more than 200 being killed—in a clash with U.S. and NATO allied forces, many were pulled out and returned to Russia. But now they are being brought into the United States on green cards and short-term visas supposedly to study or work at jobs in corporate America. But this is the buildup of a domestic, insurgent army for the purpose of fomenting a rebellion should The Bad King lose the election. Right now, we estimate there are maybe 200 to 300 of these mercenaries in each of 40 to 50 major cities spread across the country. Their purpose—and it’s already begun—is to be deployed as agent provocateurs, a sort of fifth column, to agitate and make common cause with the nativist, anti-immigration nationalists, and white supremacists who support the president.”
Shane frowns. “And even worse, they are right now using the internet to organize counter rallies, to bring out radical right-wing elements into the streets in a resistance movement to challenge the liberal protesters who are expected to turnout and demonstrate against the president.”
“That’s rich,” Billy says with all intended irony. “The anti-immigration president importing an army of immigrant invaders and terrorists into the country.”
Shane is matter of fact, “Well, it’s happening right now. And it is—in the purest sense—an attack on America. The president is a traitor and the biggest threat to American liberty, peace, and security since the end of World War II and the rise of the Soviet Union.” He pauses to give effect to what he has just said. “If he loses the election, he will start a civil war in the United States. Every major city across this country will be turned into a battleground. There will be blood in the streets.”
“What can be done to stop him?” Rosie asks, her face showing her concern.
Shane just shrugs. “Right now—nothing. We’ll just have to wait the outcome of the election, and then see what happens if The Bad King loses.”
Rosie and Billy stare at one another in glum silence. Then:
“How do you know this?” Billy asks. “The part about the Russians coming—that’s not something that’s mentioned in the file.”
“No, probably not,” Shane agrees. “However, our source inside the Kremlin confirmed the buildup of Russian agents that the green cards first showed us.” Shane stops and smiles. “Fortunately, we’ve got someone inside—a mole all cozied up to Tsar Peter—who has been providing us the information to keep current on the threat which is growing each day.”
Billy is curious. “How cozy?” he asks.
Shane smiles. “Real close, But I can’t tell you anymore. Just trust me, what we are getting is real-time and accurate. If The Bad King loses—there will be violence in the streets of America.”
“It’s scary is what it is,” Rosie replies. “I could have been killed by those two Russians on the boat. And now I am going be out on the campaign trail with him again, and I’ll be right in the scary midst of all this crazy stuff,” she says with a shiver. Rosie had—in the prior month—been in Iowa and New Hampshire, two early primary states, where the president had already kicked off his campaign.
“I know,” Shane nods in agreement. “Billy told me about the incident with the Russians on the boat. And I agree that it is not just possible, but highly likely you are still in danger—particularly when you are mixing in the rally crowds to do your reporting. That’s why I’ve already arranged to provide you some protection.”
Rosie looks flummoxed. “What are you talking about—protection?”
Knowing the CIA man as he does, Billy pointedly asks, “What are you up to Shane?”
Shane only half smiles, addresses himself to Rosie. “You’re right, Rosie. Super Tuesday is coming up. You’re going to be out on the campaign trail covering the MAGA rallies again. And that is why I wanted to meet with the two of you today. To ask your help. I need somebody right on the scene at The Bad King’s rallies. I can’t watch CNN or MSNBC all day, but I need someone right there on the ground. Someone who can watch the crowd and be my eyes and ears. Someone who has a legitimate right to be there, so they won’t be suspected as a spy. That’s why I was in New York yesterday and talked to your boss.”
The expression on Rosie’s face shows her shock—her surprise. “You talked to, Phil, my boss—yesterday?” Phil Nielsen was the president of NBC News at 30 Rockefeller Center in New York City.
Shane nods and goes on. “Yes, we had a nice little talk, and he’s agreed to help. I first called him early in the morning from my office at CIA headquarters. Then I flew up to New York. I met him on the sidewalk out in front of 30 Rock. Then we went for a walk in Central Park. I picked a park bench near to where a crew of workers were using a jack hammer to take up an old section of sidewalk figuring the background noise would render any listening device ineffective. I could not take any chances that someone might try to eavesdrop on our conversation.” Shane pauses. “This is a serious matter,” he says with emphasis, in his honest, direct way. “Thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of innocent people are going to die in riots and street violence if this president is defeated in the election!”
“What did you say to him?” Billy asks.
“Without going into too much detail, I told him it was a matter of grave national security involving the president and Russia, and I needed his help. Then I played on his sense of patriotism, asked him to give you press credentials, Billy—hire you onto Rosie’s team as an extra cameraman, security back-up, coffee boy or whatever—in order that you can be in constant proximity to Rosie in case there is another attempt on her life.”
“And he agreed?” Rosie comes back.
The CIA man smiles. “Yep. What could he say? I told him that I needed the two of you on the ground at the MAGA rallies as my eyes and ears, stressing again that it was a matter of national security. I also told him that the whole team could fly on Billy’s private jet between rally stops, saving NBC money on company travel.”
Shane stops and looks at Billy. “Do you think you can convince Sam to let us use the CJ-3? The CIA will, of course, pick up the tab for gas, ground service fees, and any maintenance costs.”
“Sure,” Billy readily agrees. “I think Sam will be okay with that.”
Billy though has a question. “What if you can’t stop them? And the Red Dragon plot is successfully carried out and implemented—and America goes from a so-called democracy to an authoritarian dictatorship with the Russian dictator pulling the strings and our American president dancing like an idiot to the organ grinder’s music. What happens then?”
“If that sad eventuality comes to pass,” Shane pauses, “then I’m afraid we will have to activate our secret weapon.” He smiles and nods to Billy. “I’ve talked briefly to my counterpart at the FBI”— he mentioned the name of the current counterintelligence director at the FBI”—and there’s already a plan in the works in which you are the principal component, Billy. We call it: The Final Solution.
Rosie’s gets a grim look on her face.
Billy looks surprised, “What’s that – “The Final Solution?” he asks.
Shane grins. “You’re a trained and deadly sniper, Billy—you figure it out.”
Rosie quickly makes the connection, draws the obvious conclusion, and is aghast. “No matter how bad he might be, you can’t assassinate the president of the United States,” she flatly declares. “It’s the job of the Congress to reign in the excesses of the executive.”
Shane has a ready, stern answer. “The Democrat are in despair, and—as usual—feckless disarray. What if the Congress is too cowardly, too politically divided or simply too inept to do its job? It took House Democrats almost three years to get their impeachment act together on the president, impanel the responsible committees and issue the proper subpoenas, and right now it is still all tied up in the courts. Absolutely nothing of substance has been done to remove a lawless, criminal president from office!”
Shane pauses again, gets a dire look on his face, and stares both Billy and Rosie squarely in the eyes. “If the president fails in the election, and I can tell you this with absolute, stone-cold certainty,” the CIA man says with emphasis, “he won’t go quietly. He will communicate with his supporters—the white supremacists and the MAGA hat reactionaries—via Twitter and Fox News to incite a revolt, he will claim voter fraud and call it all a Deep State, left-wing conspiracy to steal the election and unseat him as rightful president. And—as I said to you both earlier—there will be violence and bloodshed in the streets of America! Law-abiding citizens will demand that something be done to quell the violence. The Bad King will use the call to action as a pretext to declare martial-law, invoke the Insurrection Act, call in the military, the National Guard, and activate the local police departments—effectively a coup. The people, of course, will meekly acquiesce—just as they did in Germany in the 30’s—and that will mark the end of democracy in America.”