The room was large and used for small parties and dances. A small stage with curtains was behind the table of five interrogators. The painter was adding another coat to the white windowless room. Lipton was obviously in charge of the group and was seated in the middle. Beau recognized her as a local politician who catered to minorities and had made good in state politics. In the last five years she had also become wealthy. For some reason Beau’s present situation seemed more hopeless than when he was in the presence of the Cobra, Rasht Sharafan.
Lipton started the meeting. She rolled a finely sharpened pencil in her fingers, with an air of going through a wasted exercise before it had even started. She had advanced far as a politician in the state of Texas and as a representative in the House of Congress, and her actions against the CEOs of American business nearly ten years earlier had earned her great accolades from the news media and the people of Texas. She came down hard on some of the CEOs while taking money from those that were most influential.
The show was good while few knew the most powerful CEOs and Board of Directors filled her election coffers. No one noticed that she actually accomplished nothing against those she attacked. But she had given a good show and she’d been re-elected. Now she had great aspirations and intentions to become a United States Senator, and she intended to use this meeting to advance those goals.
Lipton asked, “Commander Gex, would you like anything before we get started?”
“No ma’am. We need to work fast I don’t believe we have much time.”
She smirked at the comment, glanced to her right then to her left, and smirked again. Medina shook his head, then Lipton said, “All right, Commander Gex, we need you to tell us the truth. Don’t you really think this idea of an invasion is a little preposterous?”
“They said the same thing in New York over ten years ago.”
Lipton snapped. “That was ten years ago. We are prepared today.” Her eyes stabbed at Beau. “Wasn’t this story created in order for you to come back to the United States so you could be reinstated in the service?”
“Personally, I don’t give a damn about the military service anymore. When this exercise is done, I intend to resign. But I stand by my story on the invasion.”
She rolled her eyes, watched the response of the rest of the panel, and snickered. “Then you admit this was just a ploy?”
Beau gritted his teeth. “Nothing of the kind. I have proof.”
“What kind of proof?” she asked.
“This,” Beau said, holding his hand up, revealing the missing finger.
Newby and Copeland smirked, while Sarah rolled her eyes again, and Medina actually laughed.
Washington appeared put out and almost angry. A show was very important for him. He had won a great battle against discrimination and taken more jobs for blacks. The black constituency believed in him and loved him. They had received many new jobs through his hard work. Few noticed that it was the most powerful white business executives that also filled his political coffers with his promise to leave them alone if they would occasionally throw him a bone and help in his campaign to be re-elected as a United States Representative.
Coincidentally he and Lipton lived in a very upscale neighborhood of Corpus Christi. In public Lipton and Washington appeared to be the best of friends and crusaders for the people. In reality, they hated each other.
“What does your hand have to do with an invasion of the United States?” Washington asked.
“The work of Rasht Sharafan. He made the mistake of telling me of the impending invasion. He bragged about it before he was to kill me.”
“Strange, you appear fine to me,” interrupted Judge Medina.
“You appear to be alive,” added Washington sarcastically. A powerfully built black man; he had served four terms in Congress and was someone to be reckoned with. He controlled many in the political scene and his voice carried the same power in the interview. He continued his questions. “Your story must be fabricated because I have heard of Sharafan. If your story were true you would be dead. You have a very vivid imagination, Commander Gex. You expect us to fall for this story? You expect the military of the United States and the president you serve to believe this?”
Infuriated, Beau shot up from his chair, forcing it to slide across the floor. “I didn’t join the Navy to serve the military or the political factions of this country! I joined to serve and protect the people and the county I love.” Beau’s words were packed with emotion and frustration.
Admiral Garrett collected the chair; he tried to calm Beau and get him seated.
The Reverend Newby addressed Beau. “Your theatrics won’t impress us or the president when he reads the report.”
Unable to regain control, Beau answered hastily, “The president be damned!”
“Commander, I suggest you control yourself or we will be forced to turn you over to the military until you can cooperate,” said Judge Medina. A show was also important for Medina. He was the most influential Hispanic judge in Texas. Secretly he believed the Hispanics were below him and loathed their living standard, but his reactions to his own people in the past year had been noticed. He had even carried more white votes than Hispanic in the last election. It was very important for him to get the Hispanic votes back.
The time had become critical for Reverend Newby to assert himself. He had problems of his own and tried to involve himself in every aspect of the community. He was trying to collect as much money as he could for the church. A woman in the congregation who was with his child was demanding money. A lot of money: money he had already given her and which was missing from the church. Even the day before, the church’s accountant had brought up many discrepancies with the books. Newby was afraid his church and wife would discover his indiscretions.
Calmly and showing no concern, the Baptist minister almost haughtily said, “There’s peace in the world. We have created a New World Order. The terrorism is over.”
“A New World Order based on our demands. Demands other countries are tired of,” scoffed Beau. The comment brought a thin but unnoticed smile to General Waddle’s face.
“There is no way we could be invaded. The satellites detail all foreign activities. We are too powerful,” Lipton said, shaking her head.
“Don’t you see? It’s so simple. Our military is spread around the world. We probably don’t have enough armed forces remaining to protect us in our own country. The satellites only tell you what an intelligent country wants you to know.”
“Where are they going to come from, Mexico?” asked Judge Medina with a laugh.
“It seems logical. That and Cuba,” Beau said in all honesty. The reaction brought a chorus of laughter from the five comprising the civilian review board. It also brought a nod of understanding from General Waddle who stood motionless, listening to all.
Copeland smiled smugly but not at the crucifixion of Beau Gex. His thoughts were on how he had used a new accounting method to take more than one billion dollars from a company he had just purchased. Contributions he had made to Lipton and Washington had assured him there would be no investigation after the public’s outcry of foul. Both Lipton and Washington and even Medina had soothed over the angry populace, saying they had investigated the transaction thoroughly and had seen nothing improper about the purchase.
“The United States could not be invaded from Mexico or Cuba,” Copeland said.
“We already have been. Think about it. We’ve never been able to stem the flow of illegal aliens or the drug traffickers. What makes you think we can stop a well-planned invasion?”