A Patriotic Nightmare. Don E. Post

there is, tell me now and we won’t waste each other’s time. If you don’t tell me and the issue crops up to bloody my nose, I will be very unhappy. Am I clear?”

      “General, my life has been embarrassingly plain vanilla! Anyone looking at my life would be bored to tears. And,” he emphasized, shaking his head back and forth as he said, “there’s not a thing in my background to embarrass anyone. Well, maybe a bad grade in high school English, but nothing more profound than that.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes, Sir, I am sure.” Darren shifted the focus as he leaned forward and asked, “But what do you think I can do for you? Washington is awash with talented Wannabies. I’ve never worked in government and may end up being a square peg in a round hole. If I am, that will be embarrassing to both of us.”

      Burcks Leaned back in his chair and said, “Yes, there is a lot of talent in D.C. I’ve talked to many. Wannabies are a dime a dozen here. But, frankly, I don’t want a wannabies. I want a ratherbie, as in ‘I’d rather be somewhere else.’ Someone untainted by government service, a self-starter, a doer and most important, someone with international experience beyond just tourist crap. This person has got to be smart enough to know a problem when hit in the face with it and guts enough to pursue the fixes. Above all, I’ve gotta have loyalty. One hundred ten-percent loyalty.”

      Silence descended. Burcks stared at Darren with an intensity that made Darren uncomfortable.

      Burcks continued, “I like the fact that you don’t have an ego that needs the limelight. We’ve got too many of those in government now. Also this is a fairly hectic place. We spend most of our time reacting to fires around the world. The White House pressures me, I pressure my staff and” after a slight pause, Burcks said, “Well, I suggest you get a punching bag you can whup-up on. If we can reach an agreement, that is.” Burcks again leaned back in his chair, waiting for Darren’s response.

      Darren’s lips curled slightly and he let the silence linger. He raised his head and let each word trickle out, “General Burcks, someone may outthink me from time to time, but no one outworks me.” Burcks nodded, but said nothing. Darren continued, “Could you be more specific? What would I be doing?”

      “Whatever task I assign you.”

      “You must have something in mind for a starter,” Darren said.

      “Yes, in fact I do. I’ll want you to help analyze our international reports. We need a new perspective. And you’ve not only got the international academic studies, but you also have years of work experience in dozens of countries. I also like that you can speak several languages.”

      “My language skills are only as good as the amount of time I’ve been in that country. In other words, I’m not that fluent.”

      Burcks nodded understanding, pushed his chair back, and said, “I get worried. The CIA and embassy staff around the world feed off each other. Hell, with all our intelligence gathering around the world, we didn’t know that the Shah of Iran had lost all chances of holding on, that the Soviet Union and East Germany had called it quits, that the students in the People’s Republic of China planned a revolution, and we sure didn’t have a clue that some Arab terrorists were planning to fly our own commercial aircraft into the World Trade Center. Since nine-eleven things seem to have improved in that area, but I still worry.”

      “Yeah, that all looked pretty bad,” Darren said.

      Burcks shook his head from side to side as he said, “By and large our agents are good people. And it’s true that budget cuts during the nineties left us wanting in our espionage efforts. But I also suspect many are afraid to pass bad news to their superiors. Or they’ve gotten too cozy with their foreign contacts and have been compromised. Good lord, we’ve even found agents sleeping with the enemy.”

      “Yeah, I guess it’s easy to get comfortable and careless,” added Darren.

      “I don’t want to be too harsh here,” Burcks said, as his voice softened and he threw his arms up and locked his hands behind his head. “Some congressional hearings suggest that correct information is often sent up the line, but the reports get trashed by some senior level analyst because they don’t support his or her views.”

      “Okay. What else would I be doing?” Darren asked.

      Both men sat quietly for a few moments. Burcks started drumming the desk with the eraser end of a pencil as he pondered how to answer Darren.

      Darren broke the silence, “I have a suspicion there’s something lurking in the bushes. Or another shoe to fall, as they say.” Burcks smiled as he glanced up.

      “You have good instincts. Yeah, we’ve got a major problem emerging. In addition to the Osama and a lot of angry Arabs, we’ve an increasing number of new American super patriots who may want to use the current state of fear and instability to establish their own political agenda. State militias have been cropping up like Johnson grass. Extremism seems to spread like a virus. Some of these nuts may eventually connect with foreign terrorists, if they haven’t already. We have to contain this thing before it gets out of hand.”

      “Yeah, unfortunately Ruby Ridge and Waco created waves,” Darren recalled stating.

      “Yeah. Well, whatever. Darren, I don’t know if this is as serious as some think. America has always had a fringe bunch like the John Birchers or the KKK. But we can’t take chances. There are reports that there are sleeper cells out there composed of domestic and foreign terrorists. I would like you to quietly focus on these kooky people. We want to know who the leaders are, what they’re thinking and planning. And, most important, if they’ve had any contact with Arab terrorists.”

      “I understand. But I’ll need some time to think about all this.”

      “You’ve got two hours. Use the office across the hall from Ms. Clark. Use the phone. Call anyone you need to. Let me have your decision at once. I have a narrow window of time to act on this.”

      Stunned, Darren got up to leave, then turned and asked, “General, do you think some of our domestic terrorists were responsible for the outbreak of anthrax after the World Trade Center catastrophe?”

      “We don’t know.” Then, as an aside he added, “But I wouldn’t be surprised.”

      Darren turned and exited as ordered. He pondered his situation as he stood at the window watching the heavy traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue.

      Finally, Ms. Clark stuck her head in and beckoned him. “Ready?”

      “Shocked that his time was up, Darren’s eyes widened. He sucked in his breath, exhaled, then whispered, “Yes.”

      “Go on into the General’s office. He’s waiting.”

      The wood floor squeaked slightly as Darren strode across the wide hall, through Ms. Clark’s office and into Burcks’. He knocked on the doorjamb at the open doorway and peeked inside. Burcks motioned him in as he finished signing some papers and stacked them in an out-basket.

      Leaning back in his chair, he asked, “Well, did you decide?”

      Quietly, Darren said, “I’ll take a shot.”

      “Well, don’t look so forlorn! We’re not going to put you against a wall and shoot you,” laughed Burcks. “At least not now!”

      “I know. Sorry about that. A change of this magnitude is always difficult.”

      Burcks rose from his desk, came around and shook Darren’s hand as he said with a serious frown, “Sure it is. Welcome aboard!” He took Darren’s right elbow and gently ushered him toward the door as he continued, “The security check is done, so you can start immediately. Ms. Clark has arranged a car to take you to your hotel. Let her know your transition travel plans and she’ll arrange the tickets and have them delivered to your hotel tonight. She’ll fill you in. Again, good to have you aboard.”

      The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought Darren back to the present. He