experiences at the NSC. After almost a year in the belly of the whale, as Darren dubbed the federal bureaucracy, he learned that one’s Washington career does, in fact, revolve around who you know and not what you know. He tired of the phonies and psychos seeking positions of power to placate their weak egos. The frantic bureaucratic activity over the months changed him, made him heartless and angry. If not for his affection for his boss and a growing concern over the increasing terrorist activities, he would prefer to return to Global Analysis.
While the Arab terrorists had been pretty quiet since the Afghan and Iraqi wars, the number of criminal acts committed by domestic super patriots had steadily increased. They seem to have taken some pages from Al-Qaida’s playbook. Indiscriminate bombings, assassinations, young men flying private planes into tall buildings, counterfeiting, bank robberies and hooliganism in general had become weekly events.
Darren had followed the tragic events at Ruby Ridge, Waco, Oklahoma City, the burning of Afro-American churches, the attempted killing of children at a Jewish daycare facility in Los Angeles, the refusal of many people to pay income taxes, register their cars, or see themselves as citizens of the United States. Frighteningly, militia groups began conducting their own “Peoples’ Courts.” Using these contrived courts, the patriots threatened to execute U.S. congressmen, judges and law enforcement officials.
That so many marginalized or disenfranchised citizens viewed government employees as pawns in the hands of either a universal conspiracy by a few elite Jewish families or some insidious power clique within the United Nations seemed incredulous to Darren. Many believed these sinister forces resulted in The Brady Bill, the assault weapons ban, and the heightened security since nine-eleven. Especially disturbing was the movement from within the conservative evangelical wing of Christianity who believed their faith to be the national religion. Many Christian fundamentalists viewed Ruby Ridge, Waco, the World Trade Center destruction, and war in the Middle East as apocalyptic signs. Some even believed that the World Trade Center tragedy was a Jewish conspiracy to force the U.S. into a war with the Arab states. Christian fundamentalists had become as big a threat as Muslim extremists. The more he had heard from fundamentalists, the more Darren saw their kinship with the Osama bin Ladens of the world. All were constipated in faith and theology.
“Ahhh,” he sighed. So much for the trip down memory lane. I better get ready to see Burcks. He carried his files into Jo Clark’s office. Jo, an attractive woman, had lost her husband in Vietnam. She raised their two boys with help from her parents who lived on a farm near Shelton, Nebraska. A quiet and efficient person, Jo became Burcks’ administrative assistant four years ago. She took care of the general from the time he stepped out his front door until his driver dropped him off again at night. He never went anywhere without Jo’s direction. Since coming to NSC from the Pentagon, she had reviewed all the files and knew all the processes and key issues.
Burcks would certainly be concerned with his new findings. Bombs exploded in towns and cities across America on a weekly basis, killing innocent people. An internal FBI report linked ninety-six bank robberies over the last twelve months to these new super patriots. Many state and local governmental officials seem afraid to act. Some enforcement officers and judges sympathized with the movement, a few others had joined the patriot organizations, and the rest didn’t have sufficient evidence to arrest and convict.
Darren opened a large manila folder and pulled out some high altitude pictures of what the FBI had labeled extremist settlements. He had studied them carefully. Ten people in the picture clearly carried rifles. The agency said that many of the groups maintained warehouse facilities loaded with arms and ammunition. A few sites even had tanks. Now Darren had to tell Burcks that some of the patriots had met with Mideast terrorists in Thailand.
Darren had recorded last night’s phone call from Vasin Boonchanta, a Thai friend from the University of Texas days. He replayed the tape.
Darren, given your new position with the U.S. government, I thought you might want to know about a strange group of guys who took over the Chaing Mai Sports Club back in early January.”
“Of course. Where’s the Sports Club?”
“The club is in an isolated valley about seven kilometers from the city of Chaing Mai.”
“Does your family still have the computer store up there?”
“Yes. In Chaing Mai. And it’s making good money.”
“Great. Send me some!” Both laughed. “I assume you went to the Sports Club to play golf. Correct?”
“Right as usual. They wouldn’t let us play. In fact, we had a difficult time getting in to see the manager, who’s a friend of my dad.”
“Wow, they really had it shut down. Your country’s overrun with tourists, so what’s the big deal?”
“This group stood out from all the others. They had men from Mideast countries, Australia, United States, Canada, England, Germany, Russia and even Japan. The hotel staff figured another sex tour had taken over the hotel. But they never even asked about women. They never went out. Just stayed in the hotel the entire week.”
“Maybe they tried to work out some business deals. Did they represent one company?
“No. Not at all. According to the hotel staff, they acted very secretive, but no company connection existed as far as any staff member I talked to could find. Some identified their nationality to staff and taxi drivers through brief conversations that always turned to politics. They made critical remarks about our king to staff members. They said the Thai should rise up and take control of their own lives. The Thai were unnerved by this rudeness.”
“Yeah,” Darren said. “That didn’t show good taste. But that’s not unusual for Americans or Europeans, is it?”
“Let me finish.”
“Sorry.”
“We’re used to tourists asking about shopping, local foods, and similar subjects. And, as you know, big men’s groups are generally tours. These guys didn’t care about that stuff.”
“Okay.”
“Not only did they seem preoccupied with government, but rarely strayed from their private conference rooms. Staff left food on serving carts in the hall adjacent to the elevator. The staff had never encountered anything as crazy as that.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet that got their attention. What happened when they went to clean the dishes off the tables?”
“They couldn’t,” Vasin said laughingly. “Someone would call from the conference hall and inform the kitchen staff that the dirty dishes and remaining food could be picked up.”
Uhmmm,” groaned Darren as he wandered where all this would lead.
“Big guys guarded the outside doors to the conference and dining rooms, according to one of the Thai waiters I talked with. They said some of these guys searched all the rooms two or three times a day using hand-held devices.”
“Well, makes sense to me,” Darren said.
“But some of the other bellhops chimed in and said that other conferees said they didn’t have any products and didn’t come on any kind of company business. There was one American man registered as Reverend John Chudders from Fort Davis, Texas.”
“I’d say you just got my undivided attention!” Darren said.” Go on.”
“The staff said that all the men seemed odd.”
“And what does that mean?”
“They had never seen people dress so funny. They’re used to the Arab abas. Many had shaved heads, tattoos and layers of gold earrings and necklaces. All dressed shabbily, even the older guys.
“That’s terrible. I’m afraid shabby dress has become an American tradition.”
Vasin continued, “One of the bellhops met several of the bald, tattooed young men in the lobby when they checked out. He asked them if they planned to be Buddhist monks. The young guys smirked and skulked