January 22, 2013. Washington, D.C.
Secret Service Detective Tom Jensen heard about the explosion seconds after it occurred. He figured the explosion was either set on a timer or was remotely detonated from someone nearby. Most bombers like to see their work in action, so there was a high likelihood the bomber was still within the area, and probably within sight distance of the church. He ordered an immediate ten-city block cordon around the bomb site, with no one except paramedics, police and the injured getting in or out. All paramedics would need to present identification to get through the road blocks. He called Ruddy Montana, and asked him to send his best 100 agents out into the field immediately to begin canvassing every house within the cordon, starting with the houses closest to the bomb site. He also called the FBI explosives experts, ordering them to the scene immediately. Then he got in his Lincoln town car and headed down to the church. He still couldn’t believe the bomber had been successful. How had his agents missed the bombs in their security sweeps of the church? Someone’s head was going to roll.
The D.C. police officer at the barricade with Morse, after hearing the explosion and seeing the fireball several blocks away, was filled with adrenaline. This man here knew about the explosion before it occurred. He could be a terrorist. The officer drew his revolver and pointed it at Morse.
“Sir, I need you to turn around slowly and put your hands on the hood of your car.”
“What?” Morse asked, confused.
“SIR!” the officer yelled, aiming the gun. “I am not going to ask you again! Turn around and put your hands on the hood.”
Morse did as he was told.
The officer radioed for backup into his shoulder mike. “This is DSN 176, I am at the Southwest Alpha barricade at St. Anthony’s. I need two backup cars here immediately. I have a possible suspect for the church bombing.”
The officer placed Morse in the back of his squad car and shut the door. Moments later, five more police cars came screaming up to the barricade, lights blaring. The D.C. cops poured out of the cars with their guns drawn, filled with testosterone. Another officer obtained Morse’s nylon zippered bag from the front seat of his car and seized his Avis rental contract, as well as his map of D.C., which he bagged as potential evidence. The officers apparently decided to take him down to the precinct, figuring they could interrogate Morse before Homeland Security took over. Every officer there wanted a crack at Morse, and they fought over who should get to interrogate him. Each hoped they could get an admission from Morse and be the hero of this thing. Two officers hopped in each of the three police cars and they drove down to the station.
“Officer, can I ask where you are putting my bag?”
The officer ignored him.
“Officer, can I ask you…
“Sir, you have the right to remain silent, and I suggest you use it right now!” yelled the cop in the front seat.
Morse remained quiet.
After a few minutes, he said. “Officer, in my bag, you are going to find several ancient scrolls, which are over five hundred years old. They are one of the greatest archaeological finds in history, and if you are rough with them, you are going to forever damage or destroy them. So could I ask you to please treat the items in the bag carefully?”
The officer turned back to Morse with a grimace. “Sir, maybe you did not hear me. I need you to shut your pie-hole NOW, do you understand?”
Morse rolled his eyes. Ignorant people really irritated him. He certainly appreciated their bravery in keeping the peace, but why did so many of these officers always have to act like ignorant apes?
Vail, Colorado.
In Vail, Colorado, 7’ 2” Tim Scall and his three children were skiing down Adventure Ridge. Their favorite trails were Cheetah and Simbah, big wide-open intermediate trails. His kids waited for him at the bottom, for they were faster than he was. He loved this trip. The campaign had been excruciatingly difficult for everyone in the family, and wreaked absolute havoc on his dental practice. He was not ready to adjust to his new life as the husband of the Vice President. He was going to have nothing to do each day. Also, the assassination of the agent on Inauguration Day had worried him. He did not want his wife or kids taken out by some crazy. They badly needed a vacation. He was absolutely savoring this time on the mountain with his children. They had gone inner-tubing at night and visited a natural hot spring. And even though it was January, the weather was in the 30s and the sky was clear and blue. He was so happy to be here. All his children were good snowboarders. He had tried it once, but preferred skiing. With his height, he felt like you needed a lower center of gravity to snowboard. The only bad time they had so far was this morning, when they took a wrong turn and went down “Cub’s Way,” a beginner trail which was very flat. Flat trails are terrible for snowboards, and result in long walks. Scall had tried to pull his snowboarding daughter with his ski pole, but had thrown out his shoulder pulling her. But now they were having loads of fun.
As he got near the end of Simba, he stopped with his kids to take a breather. They were waiting with a big guy named Don, who was skiing with them. He was their Secret Service escort while they were on the hill. Tim Scall took off his snow goggles to clear the fog on the glass. The sun reflected off the white snow, so it was hard to see. He squinted up the hill, but it looked like a lot of skiers were coming down the hill quickly. Scall put his goggles back on. Five members of the Vail Ski Patrol in red parkas with a big Red Cross on the front came whizzing down Simba, and hockey-stopped in front of them in a spray of snow.
“Are you Tim Scall?” asked one of the leaders.
“Yes, I am.”
“We have received an urgent call from the Secret Service to get you off the mountain now.”
“What is happening?” asked Don. “I have not heard anything.” Don checked his earpiece.
“Sometimes the reception up here on the hill is bad,” said the man from the Ski Patrol.
“Can I see your IDs?” asked Don.
The Vail employees quickly showed them their IDs and Don patted them down the best he could. They looked legit.
“OK, you ski up ahead and show us the way and we will follow you,” said Don.
“What is it?” asked Tim Scall. “Is my wife OK?”
“Yes,” said one of the members of the Ski Patrol. “According to what I just saw on CNN, your wife is the new President of the United States. The President has just been killed.”
Tim Scall was flabbergasted. Suddenly, all thoughts of skiing went out of his head. He wanted to get back to Washington as soon as possible and talk to his wife.
“Let’s go!” he said. They skied as fast as they could down to Vail Village, where a limousine filled with hot chocolate was waiting for them.
Agent Gonzalo Fender was one of the brightest FBI agents in the field. Originally from Mexico City, he spoke fluent Spanish. He also impressed the FBI with PhD in Psychology and his fluency in Arabic, French, German, and Farsi. He was a devout Catholic, but he also had a brother-in-law who was Muslim, so he was very familiar with the prayer rituals and practices of Muslims. He was one of the agents tasked to speak with the residents who lived around St. Anthony’s Church. He had already interviewed fourteen residents so far, with no luck. Then he rang the doorbell of Hector Santiago.
“Hello, sir, my name is Gonzalo Fender of the FBI. I guess you may have noticed the bombing incident we had down the street, and I am wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
“I didn’t see anything,” the man said quickly.
“Oh, I am sure you didn’t. But this is just routine, you know, we have to question everyone. Is it OK if I come in?”
“I guess so,” said Santiago, inviting him in.
They sat on the couch.
“Can I get you some coffee or something?” asked Santiago.
“No, that’s fine.” Fender pulled out a notebook. “What is your name, sir?
“Hector Santiago.”
“Can I see your ID?”
Santiago showed him his driver’s license, and Fender took note of his Date of Birth and Social Security number.
“Crazy morning, heh?” asked Fender.
“Yeah, I have been watching it on the news. It looks terrible.”
“Did you see the bomb go off? You have a real good view from your window here.” Fender took a look out the window.
“No, I was sleeping, but I heard it though. Shook the whole house.”
Fender looked around. There were a lot of crucifixes. Almost too many crucifixes. “You a religious man?”
“Very much so, Officer. I am the maintenance man for St. Anthony’s.”
“Ah, the maintenance man.” Fender wrote that down. Now that was interesting.
“What are your hours over there at the church?
“Mostly, I clean up every morning, after the mass for the school children. And then I clean up after 5 p.m. mass on Saturday, and on Sunday afternoons after the masses then. And then at night, I buff all the floors, and polish all the pews, and vacuum the carpeting.”
Fender thought. The maintenance man would have access at night, with no one watching.
“How long have you had this job?”
“A couple years.”
“Really? Where you from originally?”
“Mexico.”
“Really? What part of Mexico?
“Guadalajara.”
“Really? El Zorro del Desierto, heh?” [“the Desert Fox”]
Santiago smiled, but it did not seem to Fender like the comment registered. One of the greatest soccer players on the Mexican national team was Jared Borgetti, known to everyone in Mexico as the Desert Fox. He played on the Guadalajaran team for seven months in 2009. Any self-respecting Mexican from Guadalajara would know about the Desert Fox. Fender decided to test the man further. He smiled warmly to keep the maintenance man unsuspecting.
“¿Estas mirando el Mundial?[Have you been following the World Cup?”]
“Si.”[Yes.]
“¿Quién te gusta mas, Jared Borgetti o Diego Maradona?”[Who do you like better, Jared Borgetti or Diego Maradona?]
“Los dos son bueno.” [They are both good.] Santiago smiled nervously. He blew that one. Maradona was one of the greatest soccer players in the world, but he played for Argentina, and he retired in 1997. He was now coach of the Argentinian team. Anyone who followed the World Cup would know that. The man could have just said he did not know much about soccer, but instead, he decided to lie. Fender decided to poke around.
“Listen, you are like the fifteenth house I have visited and I have to use the restroom. Do you mind if I borrow your bathroom?
“Sure,” said Santiago, pointing the way.
When Fender got into the bedroom, he noticed two more crucifixes on the wall, and then something strange. Rolled up in a corner, behind a potted plant, was a small rug. He pulled it out. It was definitely a Muslim prayer rug. It looked just like the one his brother-in-law owned. What is a Catholic doing with a Muslim prayer rug?
He went into the bathroom, and flushed the toilet. As he got ready to wash his hands, he looked at the stopper in the sink. On the inner rim of the stopper, there was a tiny bit of a gray clay-like substance. Fender scraped it off, put it in a Ziploc bag from his pocket, and pocketed the sample.
He went back into the main room.
“Did you have a good holiday?”
“Yes.”
“Now, do you celebrate Milad un Nabi on the 24th or the 29th?”
“The… I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Milad un Nabi, the Prophet’s birthday. Sunnis celebrate it on the 24th, but Shia celebrate it on the 29th. I wondered which one you were?”
“Officer, I am not Muslim.”
“Sure you are,” said Fender.
“Officer, as you can see by all the crucifixes on my walls, I am a Catholic.”
“Then why do you have a sajjada in your bedroom?”
“A sajjada? What is that?”
“It is a Muslim prayer rug, as you well know.”
“That is just a rug, not a prayer rug.”
“Then why does it have a Mihrab on it?”
“A what?”
“A Mihrab--an arch-shaped design at the top of the carpet which allows you to orient the rug towards Mecca?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Mr. Santiago, I think we need to take a drive down to the station house.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Mr. Santiago, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can come downtown with me voluntarily, or I can arrest you for conspiracy to murder the President of the United States and cuff you right now. Which is it going to be?”
“I will come with you, but I have done nothing wrong.” Agent Fender put the suspect in the back of his car, but did not cuff him. He was not worried the suspect would escape, as his car had no interior door handles and there was a glass partition between the front seat and the back seat.
“Dispatch, This is Agent Fender, Agent 6497,” he said into his radio mike on his belt. “I am at 1417 Agnes, home of a Hector Santiago. He is the maintenance man for St. Anthony’s. I have a strong suspicion that this gentleman is our bomber. I have him in the back of my car and I am bringing him downtown for questioning. I would like a DC Metro escort, please. I would like someone from the U.S. Attorney’s Office to meet us because we are going to need search warrants for this guy’s house.”
“Roger that, 6497,” said Dispatch.
“This is Wolf Blitzer in the CNN Situation Room. If you are just turning in, tragedy struck this morning as a bomb decimated St. Anthony’s Catholic Church in Georgetown, where the President and numerous politicians were attending a funeral. We have confirmed from the Department of Homeland Security that President Tim Woodson is dead. I repeat, the President of the United States is dead. The blast also killed all nine Supreme Court Justices, the Senate Majority Leader, the Speaker of the House, and at least thirty other senators and congressmen. This is the worst attack on the American government in our nation’s history. Anna Scall, the Vice President, was running ten minutes late for the funeral due to some last minute business, and was fortunate enough to avoid being caught in the blast. We are being told that a half hour ago, Anna Scall was sworn in by an appellate judge as the new President of the United States. By that action, Anna Scall becomes the first female U.S. President in American history, obviously a milestone in itself, but something we all wish would not have occurred under these tragic circumstances. The Secret Service has confirmed that they have secured the families of both President Woodson and President Scall. We are being told by the White House Press Corps that Anna Scall, our new President, will address the nation in a press conference momentarily. We turn now to CNN’s political correspondent Candy Crowley, who is on the scene in Georgetown. Candy, what can you tell us?”
“Well, Wolf, as you know, the tragic bomb blast occurred at about 8:05 a.m. this morning. The priest had just walked to the microphone to begin the funeral ceremony of the Secret Service Agent who was gunned down by terrorists on Inauguration Day. We are being told by the Secret Service that a tipster had notified police only moments before the blast that bombs were hidden inside statues in the church, and that an attempt was being made on the President’s life. The Secret Service agents guarding the President were notified via their earpieces, but apparently, Wolf, the warning came just moments too late, for it was at that point that the entire church exploded. Witnesses in the parking lot described it as a giant fireball. We had one of our crews covering the funeral. One of our cameramen was running what we refer to as B-roll, or background footage for later use, of the outside of the church, when he caught the explosion on film. At this point, Wolf, we would like to warn our viewers that this is tragic and graphic footage, so if they have little ones there, they may want to have those viewers not look at this footage.”
With that, the television screen showed a calm-looking exterior of St. Anthony’s of Padua. At 8:05 on the film, the church suddenly exploded, the camera appeared to fall off its tripod, for the next few seconds of film showed the blacktop of the parking lot. People were screaming. Then it appeared that the cameraman picked up the camera and started filming. There were clouds of dark black smoke everywhere, and the cameraman was heard exclaiming, “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Then the film went dead.
“Candy, that is horrible indeed. Has Homeland Security given you any information on who was killed in the blast?”
“Yes, right now, they believe they have 62 confirmed dead. That includes the President of the United States, Tim Woodson, his wife, the First Lady, all nine justices of the Supreme Court, the Senate Majority Leader, the Speaker of the House, and at least twelve Secret Service agents. In addition, we have 31 legislators confirmed dead. We are going to post their names on cnn.com, but they include nine Democratic Senators, three Republican Senators, fourteen Democratic members of the House of Representatives, six Republican members, and the Mayor of the District of Columbia.”
“Is it possible that there are other Senators or Representatives who are killed or injured?”
“It is possible, Wolf. We do not yet have a list from the Secret Service as to who was supposed to be in the church for this funeral, and we are making calls to each of the offices of those legislators to find out if they are present or missing.”
“Do they have a suspect yet?”
“We have no word of a suspect yet, Wolf. I have been told by the Fire Marshall that this was an explosive device, not an accidental thing. This was an act of terrorism, that is certain, but just who the perpetrator or perpetrators are at this point, we cannot say.”
“Is there any suggestion this was Al Qaeda?”
“Again, no word from Homeland Security whether this was an act of Al Qaeda or a home grown terrorist. We will just have to wait and see.”
“Is there anyone who may still be alive under all that rubble?”
“Wolf, firefighters are working tirelessly with cranes and backhoes to remove the debris in an attempt to rescue anyone who may still be in the church, but the Fire Marshall told me moments ago that due to the power of the explosives used, the chances of anyone surviving are slim.”
“Candy, do we have any idea where the new President, President Scall, is right now?”
“She is at an undisclosed location somewhere in Georgetown, Wolf. Apparently, her limousine was just seconds from pulling into the parking lot when the blast occurred. She was taken to Georgetown, where she is expected to address the nation in a press conference momentarily.”
“Candy, you mentioned something about a tipster. Any idea who that tipster was?”
“No, the police have informed me that the tipster is at FBI Headquarters now and is being questioned as a ‘Person of Interest,’ that is what they are calling him. They took great pains to tell me he is not a suspect at this time, but merely a ‘person of interest.’”
“Any idea how he could have known the blast was going to occur?”
“We asked the FBI that, but as you can imagine, Wolf, they are being very tight-lipped about their investigation right now.”
“Candy, I am sure many of our viewers are wondering how the Secret Service could allow bombs to remain in the church before a Presidential visit. Was there a security sweep of the church done before the funeral and, if so, how did they miss what were clearly explosive bombs?”
“I do not know that, either, Wolf, but we will certainly be staying on the story to get those answers. Reporting live from Georgetown, this is Candy Crowley, CNN News.”
“We turn now to one of our experts, retired Secret Service Sergeant William Insell, Sergeant Insell, what type of security sweep would normally be made for a church site like this before a President arrives?”
“Well, Wolf, what normally happens is…”
“I am sorry, Sergeant, I am going to have to interrupt you. I am being told that our new President, Anna Scall, is at the microphone from an undisclosed location in Georgetown, and is about to address the nation.” The camera cut away to the screen, where Anna Scall somberly approached the microphone. Chief of Staff Matt Suba was standing tall just over her right shoulder on the platform.
“My fellow Americans. Today, we face another great tragedy, as terrorists have murdered most of the leading members of our American government. As you may have heard, we lost many great Americans today, including President Woodson, the First Lady, the Majority Leader, the Speaker of the House, all nine Justices of the Supreme Court, over two dozen legislators, and some of the best and brightest from the Secret Service. It was only through the grace of God and sheer happenstance that I arrived ten minutes late and missed being killed in the blast, literally by seconds. It is with a heavy but a proud heart that I take up the mantle of the United States of America for my country. As your new President, here is what I intend to do:
“First, we must find and bury our dead, and remember each and every one of them for the wonderful human beings they were. Every single person lost in this tragedy helped millions of everyday Americans in their own way, and we will not rest until every one of the fallen is honored. Nearly every person lost was a personal friend or colleague of mine, so I share the pain many of you must feel today.
Second, we will treat the injured. The firefighters here will not rest, will not sleep, until all of the rubble is cleared, and we rescue anyone at all who could still be alive after this tragedy. And they will receive the best medical care that money can buy. We have dedicated surgeons and health care professionals ready both here in Washington DC and around the country. As a former nurse myself, I can assure you that the injured will be cared for.
Third, we will find these murderers. They will not be able to hide in caves; they will not be able to hide behind their religion or their cause. Whatever rock they are hiding under, we will find these cowardly worms. And we will crush them with an iron boot and the full wrath of the American people; I can assure you of that. And if any country is found to have harbored them, assisted them, comforted them, schooled them, funded them, or taken any action to assist them in committing these violent acts, that country will be an enemy of the United States, and our military will take swift and decisive action against them.
Fourth, we will investigate how this security breach occurred, so that it cannot happen again. Of course, at a moment like this, when so many Secret Service agents have fallen, it is tough to try and cast blame on the noble professionals who work tirelessly to try and prevent catastrophes like this every day. But the stark fact remains that terrorists were able to sneak into a church in the dead of night, plant bombs inside the church, and escape without detection. None of the security sweeps uncovered the bombs. That is simply unacceptable. We will have a top to bottom investigation—not for casting blame, but for the purpose of ensuring that these terrorists cannot make similar attacks in the future.
Fifth, we need to immediately reconstitute our government. The obvious intention of these terrorists was to knock out our government in one fell swoop, thereby making us powerless for whatever ensuing attacks are coming in the days and weeks ahead. We will not allow terrorists to weaken our government. Here is what I intend to do to reconstitute the government.
My first act, pursuant to Section 2 of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, will be to appoint a new Vice President. My choice is Matt Suba, my Chief of Staff for the last three and a half years. This is Matt here. Matt is a true American, not a partisan. He has helped me through all of my campaigns, and he has been an inspiration for me, providing sound advice and good counsel. I need him in the White House. I will be asking the members who remain in the Senate and House to immediately hold hearings and confirm Matt within the week. And I say to my friends in Congress: this is NOT the time to bicker and fight in a partisan manner. This is the time to act like grownups and do what is best for America. I urge Congress to trust my judgment on this, and not second-guess me. Matt is the right man for the job.
“Lest anyone accuse me of being anything less than non-partisan, I also offer the following proposal regarding replacements for our Supreme Court. I do not intend to appoint nine conservative Republicans to the Court, as some of you may have feared. That would not be fair. That would not be just. And that would play right into the hands of our enemies, who seek to change our government through violence. The Court was previously composed of five conservatives and four liberals. I intend to appoint precisely five conservatives and four liberals, and I would ask Congress to immediately confirm all nine choices together as a panel at its earliest opportunity, so that the Court can continue with its important work.
“In terms of replacing the remainder of Congress, I would ask each Governor-- and if replacements are made in a special election, then the voters of that particular state--whether you are a Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal, to choose your replacement in the following manner. If a Republican was lost, then appoint a Republican for the replacement. If a Democrat was lost, appoint a Democrat for the replacement. In this way, our enemies cannot succeed in changing the fabric and composition of our government through cowardly acts of violence and terrorism.
“Finally, let me say something to the American people who have lost so much today. St. Anthony of Padua is the Catholic patron saint for the recovery of things which are lost. That is quite appropriate today, because our country has lost much, and we are in desperate need of assistance with our recovery. In the days and weeks ahead, I would ask you to honor each of the fallen for their great contributions in this life, and to put aside partisanship and political rhetoric in an effort to restore this great American government. I regret that it is under these circumstances that I have come to lead you. Nevertheless, I am proud to lead you out of this crisis. And today, in the shadow of our loss, I am more proud than ever to be an American. Thank you.”
Thousands of miles away, on Air Force One flying over Colorado, Tim Scall watched the television coverage. He could not believe his wife was going to appoint Matt Suba as Vice President without even discussing it with him. He hated that thick-necked oaf. There were dozens of politicians more qualified. Well, at least she was safe. He would discuss it with her when they returned to the White House. It was just hitting him that he was now officially the First Gentleman of the United States. He popped some Presidential M&M’s into his mouth. He left his seat in front of the television to see how his kids were doing. This was going to be an even bigger change in their lives.
John Morse was seated in a small, windowless interrogation room. An investigator from the FBI, wearing a white shirt, rolled up sleeves, khaki pants, and a firearm strapped over his shoulder, entered the room carrying Morse’s nylon bag and a manila folder. Morse learned that his children had been picked up by the FBI in Providence and were being flown to the FBI Field Office in Washington, D.C. for interrogation.
“Hello, Professor Morse, my name is Detective Tom Jenson with the Secret Service, and I have been assigned to your case. How are you doing, do you need a soda or coffee or anything?”
“Bottled water would be great, if you have it.”
“Sure.” He opened the door and yelled for someone to get him a bottle of water for the prisoner.
“Detective, are my children OK?”
“Yes, Professor Morse, they are fine. No need to worry about them. How old are your children, by the way?”
“Zach is fifteen and Zoey is fourteen.”
“OK, would you have any problems if we asked them some questions?”
“As long as I am present.”
“Is that so you can get your story straight?”
“No, Detective, I am a father, probably like you, and I do not want my children being mistreated.”
“Don’t worry, we will not mistreat them. So is it OK?” He pushed a consent form across to Morse. Morse pushed it back.
“As I said, you can feel free to question them if I am present.”
“Do the children have a mother?”
“No. She died in the 9/11 tragedy.”
“Really? That’s too bad. I guess that must have been hard on you, seeing as the government employees at the airport screwed up and let those terrorists on the plane with box cutters. Must be tough to think how much the government let you down.”
“As I understand it, airport personnel at that time were not employed by the government, so no, I do not blame the government for that.”
“But you probably tried to get answers from the government after 9/11, right? I know that was tough for a lot of families.”
“Detective, one thing you should know about me is that I am an educated man. I am not stupid. I can see where you are going with these questions, so let me jump to the finish line here so we can all stop wasting our time. I did not have a grudge against my own government a