Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(67)



“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Orson screamed. The camera zoomed in on them and the cuffs.

“I’m Special Agent Cromwell of the New York office of the FBI and you, Orson Benning, are under arrest for treason against the United States, sedition, wire fraud, bribery, and abuse of power in relation to your actual and active participation in the assembly of a group that the president of the United States notified Congress of his declaration of open war against. You have the right to remain silent—”

He stared at the screen as Orson was dragged away in handcuffs. “Assembly of a group? Declaration of war? What does that mean?” Roland asked as he stared off camera at his own television.

“Stratton knows about us.”



* * *



Birch watched Orson rant against federal authority and protest that they had no right to arrest him. He was governor after all. Well, was. Birch looked out to where the National Guard moved with their weapons toward Orson. The entire New York FBI office blocked their path, and Birch knew it was time to stop the escalation.

Birch stepped up onto a pile of debris as the news reporters yelled questions and the Guardsmen looked confused on whose orders to follow. “This morning I have declared open war against a group who is secretly trying to overthrow not only the presidency, but also the rights of citizens all over the world. This group has killed world leaders, plotted these bombings, conspired with the world’s deadliest drug lord, and manipulated you through the use of the media. This group reaches from Hollywood actors, news anchors, and to the presidents of banks. From princes to presidents. From FBI agents to senior members of the Hill. They’re behind my attempted assassination, this bombing, and much more.

“Today I notified Congress of a group known as Mollia Domini and my intent to rid this world of these power-hungry parasites who care nothing for your lives, rather only how they can help themselves. Today they wanted your money and the power that came with controlling it. In coordinated attacks against multiple major exchanges around the world, they were going to take it. They were going to take your livelihoods, your pensions, and your hard work. But today I say, no more hiding in the shadows. No more playing the puppetmaster behind the scenes. This isn’t the type of war we are used to fighting, but make no mistake, this is a war.”

There was no clapping as Birch looked around. There was confusion, murmurs, and looks of fear. “The founding fathers of our great nation divided the power among us. They had learned from history that the power should stay with the people and so have I.” Birch looked directly into the camera. “I will not march out in our colors so you can shoot me down like wars of the past. You will never see me coming. I will not fight fair. I will take everything from those trying to tear our country apart. I will expose those in the media who tell lies in order to manipulate the public.”

Birch looked behind the cameras to the journalists. “There will be a list emailed out by my press secretary along with a statement and evidence of every media manipulator, and you’ll recognize quite a few trusted names. In fact, some of you are standing right here. You might want to think what your next article or report says before that email is sent. It’s time to do your job—report the truth. Director Kirby and I have a plan and all I can say is”—Birch looked directly into the camera again—“we’re coming for you.”





27





The next morning’s sun shone bright as Grant slipped his arm around Valeria. He watched the C-17 land at Andrews Air Force Base, the tires leaving a thin sheen of rubber on the well-used runway. Grant looked to where Valeria held Lizzy’s hand and Lizzy held Tate’s. Birch and Humphrey filled in the end of the line, facing the back of the plane. Behind them were Alex, Roxie, Director Kirby, and Senator Epps, as well as over fifty wounded veterans Jason and Michelle had helped over the years, all in dress uniforms of their military branches. Off to the side, the members of Andrews Air Force Base lined up ten rows deep, dressed in their finest.

The back of the plane lowered into a ramp as the Honor Guard moved forward. Grant straightened his maroon beret with the silver pin of the USAF Pararescue attached. Valeria looked at him sadly before he strode in even steps toward the plane with President Stratton, dressed in his Army blues.

Grant, in his Air Force dress, stopped at the base of the ramp. Two members of the Honor Guard lined up on each side of the ramp, facing each other. Grant stepped into the third spot on one side and Birch filled the third spot on the other. Grant looked up and met Dalton’s wounded eyes. Someone had brought him a dress uniform.

Grant held his salute for Jason, while the rhythmic sounds of marching boots echoed in the early morning peace as the wounded veterans formed a row slightly behind each side of the Honor Guard. Grant and the rest of the Honor Guard moved up the ramp and saluted. They reached down, and with heavy hearts, lifted Jason’s flag-draped coffin. Three by three, they carried him down the ramp and past the soldiers who were now living full lives, thanks to Jason and Michelle. Lizzy, Tate, Valeria, Alex, and Humphrey watched with tears as Jason’s body was loaded into the back of a hearse.

In silence, the men and women who had gathered overnight to bury Jason moved to the caravan. Grant and Dalton sat with their fellow PJs as the rest of the team rode to Jason and Michelle’s farm under the anonymity of blackened windows. Secret Service cleared traffic as curious onlookers pulled over on their morning commutes to watch the procession. Media was not invited, although Tate would be releasing selected photos in a press release honoring Jason at a later time.

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