Obama’s Wall…                           

Obama’s Wall… 

J Elliott ©1/8/17

Fiction… Sortta…Work in progress

 January  2017    1:8:17 0300 fiction

Mere days from Trump’s inauguration, Obama is not done yet. 

As outgoing President of USA – he has been tasked with one final duty.  To pull this off – he used the excuse of remaining in DC – so his daughter could finish her school year.

He leased a home in the very vicinity he would be ‘leaving’, on or around the 19th of January, perhaps.


Begins building a Yuuuuge wall around said home.

A few nights ago, it struck me – about Obama’s wall building…around a leased home… In DC… Near All the governmental complexes he’s so very familiar with.

Wall that size will need some serious soil removal/displacement, as that height above ground will require trenching at least 4′ wide with a foundation base & buried work of minimum 4′ to 5′ in support of the visible 10′.  

Not counting steel rebar.

A LOT of soil removal indeed; explained in part by the wall.

OK – what if…

The wall goes up as a ruse to disguise massive dirt movement from the site?

He’s tunneling access into the miriad underground connectors? ( wouldn’t have to go far & he knows his way).

To do – what?

Practise what he’s learned from watching V for Vendetta too many times?  Reading novels of bank heists that involved far more finesse than he might have to apply?

…To bore a tunnel.

Been a few days since this started – but he only has a few days left.  He doesn’t have far to go to access one of the branches – which leads to miles & miles of connectors throughout the underbellies of DC, the Pentagon and etcetera.

Fact:  1.12.17  1422 or thereabouts, via Brietbart

Power outage in several closely connected government buildings, during confirmation hearings, of the incoming Administration’s department picks.

Sometimes this happens when you’re tunneling – even when you’re careful.

No one thought much of it though, emergency lights on, hearings continued… And not a peep more if it in the ‘news’.

Fiction continued:

One wouldn’t require much space to accomplish what Obama might have in mind.  Tunnel diameter only needs to be 4′ to 5′, if that, and again, it isn’t that far to the target Intersector.

Gotta be more careful though.  The power cut was lucky.  Only one worker died & will rest in an area of the wall footer.  Many such spots along that footer for such purposes.  Two trusted ‘workers’ – of seven, all drafted from an ultra secret Navy contractor group, puts the body away – then they return to the work at hand.  Down to six.

Stay focused – keep going – end is close.


In the undecorated study of his new home, Obama is raging on a secured cellphone call.

“Why are you forcing me to do this??? How can I live with this??? “

He is breathing hard & tears are streaming down his face which is twisted in anger, fear, subjugation.

The person on the other end might be saying:  

” Because you agreed to all of it more than eight years ago Barry.  We paid you very, very well.  You knew all the risks and all the plan contingencies. All did not go accordingly – so now this must be implemented. “

Obama responds:

“I don’t know if I can do this…” voice hoarse, almost a whisper… “What of the Russian contingency?  It’s in play…”

His handler says – quietly, lethally –

“Yes, Barry,  it is in play – however – This – what you are about to do – is our insurance and  you can & will do this – it’s very simple and direct – your final act of attrition.  You may contact within 48 hours as the devices are in place and you & your family have left the area.”

And now, he is still pacing as he listens to dead air; the final silence of the living.

Sweating profusely and nauseated – Obama stumbles into the adjoining bathroom, gets to the sink and dashes water on His face… Head hanging, he stands there supporting his trembling body – hands on either side of the basin…

Trying to catch his breath, head lowered, he rubs a spot on the backside of his neck, where a minor tumor had been removed several years ago.

Benign – healed well, but had been causing occasional irritation for past several months.

‘Nothing to worry about’ – his surgeon espoused – ‘all is good.  Could be caused by stress’…

“Yeah – stress” Obama thinks… Splashes more water on his face – towels off as he raises his face to the mirror, with one hand still steadying his shock rocked body and senses.

His eyes meet his eyes… Bloodshot & anguished… Then he visually travels upward to what remains of his hair.

Earlier today – before the power cut – it was medium gray… 

Now he stares at nothing but white. White as the driven snow of the storm outside; white as the paper in the little used fax machine.

White as the plain business envelope now sitting on the desk in his undecorated study.

Disbelieving, he raises a now trembling hand to touch the hair…

He rails against himself…

“O God or Allah or whoever,  what have I done???  What am I about to do?  How did this mess surround me so completely?  I  always felt so sure I could ‘control’ some of what I was told – had agreed to…” 

Obama’s mind goes blank as he stares back at the whipped, forlorn image in the mirror.  Eyes tearing up again, his head drops as he turns to go back into the study.

And sees the envelope.

Looking around cautiously as he approaches the desk, listening and hearing no noise, nor sensing movement; he stands at last over the envelope.

No markings or addressing – nothing.

Could it be a bomb?  Or something similar?  Can’t involve law enforcement… One of his contractor men?  No, no that wouldn’t work either.

He thinks:

” Suck it up buddy – you’re so far over your head – just suck it up.  Michelle and the girls will be here in minutes – just fuckin look!”.

Taking a pen knife out if his pocket, he opens it and gently flips the envelope over.  Nothing on the back of it either.

Something inside issues a soft, brief ‘sand sound’…

“Just do it, just do it, suck it up and just do it!!!” his mind roils – and again beads of anxious sweat appear on his face.

With resolve – he picks up the envelope and slashes it open with his pen knife; Sand, dirt & tiny pieces of concrete fall out – along with a very short section of electrical wire… ‘Hot’ –  from the red coating… And nothing else.

If the very feeling of certain, sudden doom, can make a person die – Obama would there and then – be dead.

Absently, as he stares at the small amount of debris – his hand raises to massage at the trouble spot on his neck.

It was now throbbing.

Fact:  1.14.2017 via news outlets Fox, WaPo, Breitbart –

Commander of the D.C. Guard., Schwartz chose to resign his position in the midst of official deployment for the Trump inauguration security. He was asked to stay through to end of ceremonies and declined.

Effective at noon, inaugeration day.

He has a Bachelor of Science in Electrical Engineering

Fiction continues:

A forceful knock on the kitchen door – brings Obama to the present – he exits the study and almost dog trots down the hall to the kitchen.

The knock persists again a bit louder…as Obama reaches out to open the door – he knows who is there.

Standing at ease outside, facing away from the house and scanning the area through wind blown snow, is the lead ‘contractor’.  He turns as he hears the door latch to face his ‘boss’.

The two men stare at each other – the ‘contractor’ looks at Obama’s hair – no change in expression – then looks back at his ‘boss’ and says “rough day… Reporting in sir!”.

Obama turns & walks a few steps into the kitchen as the contractor follows; they face each other across a kitchen island – Obama nods his head , ready for the report.

” Sir – aside of the earlier regrettable incident, we’re progressing 2 to 3 hours ahead of schedule.  All other utilities gave been laser and xray pinpointed – should be no further trouble; but we are re-doubling efforts to make certain.  ETA to wall-stop approximately 13 hours.  if all goes well.” 

The contractor – Blake – shifts his weight slightly, not breaking eye contact with Obama… Trying to read the agonized appearing man.

Obama nods his head slightly and breaks the gaze by slowly turning toward the study.  He stops and responds – softly – “OK – got it… Do the usual & we’ll meet again tomorrow…”

Blake clears his throat – says “Sir…” turns and heads to the kitchen door.

Obama hears it open – hears Blake exit – hears the door close – firmly but quietly; and continues back to the study – back to the envelope.

Fact:  via Breitbart 1.17.17 

Obamas will be in Palm Springs from possibly the 19th to late of the inauguration date of the 20th.

Fiction Continues:

Back in the study he stares morosely at the contents spilled on the desk.  ‘Not good at all’ he thinks.  Then he hears voices of his family approaching the front door portico.

Opening the wide upper drawer he sweeps all in, closes; dusts off his hands and heads to the entry…

Reaching it just as the lock is disengaged and the door swingd open to snow spackled smiling girls and Michelle – who freeze in place as they stare at Obama’s hair.

Both girls stage whisper ‘daddy?’ As tears begin…Michelle reaches up but stops, looking at her husband – she says softly ‘ Barry – what…?’ choking off a quiet sob.

A brief frozen vignette of the family of four.

Opening the door wider, he motions them into the house, closes and locks the door – still unable to speak a word, he gazes briefly at each of them in turn; then by action has them follow him into the kitchen.

All are stunned for very different reasons; all in fear of an unknown.

Now loosely gathered around the kitchen island, Obama stands with snowy head slightly bowed and shakes it in despair:  Sasha is first to react & gets close enough to place a firm hand on his forearm saying ‘Dad…?’  Malia & Michelle go to his other arm & hand – grasping with pleading looks.

Obama inhales a deep, shakey breath and nods a bit… A plausible story forming.

In something above a loud whisper he says to them – each in turn –

“I’m so very sorry to have put you three precious souls through these last years…” Michelle attempts to interrupt – but is stayed – the girls are both gulping tears back… 

He continues – “you’ve endured much and still have remained human.  For this I’ve been a luckiest man alive and have made much time to think about all this today.  There have been close calls for all of us and reviewing all of these incidents made my heart hard and blood run cold… We got through it – but not quite past it yet… It has shaken me terribly – my part in your endangerments… Now you see how much so, as I did a mere hour or so ago while washing up.  Am still not used to it…”.  And tears begin for him again, as well…

So, yet another vignette of the family of four.

And more perveracation from the Master of Stories; this time directly to his family.


For almost the eternity of 30 seconds none move as in slow motion they all exchange looks – words just won’t come.

Michelle is first to shake herself free of inaction & indecision… With one last look at the white hair – a direct gaze to her husband’s face she says “I’m making coffee… Would you girls please see if there is sandwich fixings?  And if not – order several pizzas & ask the detail outside to come in and wait in the hallway for a few moments…”

“Barry – it’s brutal cold out it would be better if the men could rotate in and out of the cold – better if we also feed them right here…Better we stay here…Yes???”.

He stares at her – nods his ascent. 

With the girls now out of earshot – she gazes at him again questioning “There’s much more to this – isn’t there?… But you can’t or won’t say…”

Obama breaks eye contact with her and again nods in ascent.

With a soft moan, she lowers her head and begins a brisk walk toward the hallway.  

Cutting through the study – she closes the door opening onto the foyer…

After she informs the head of the detail and shows them the small parlor they can set up in – they are advised the President is in his study working & not to be disturbed… Would they please do their customary domicile check – then keep to the front of the house as shift changes occur.

They’re informed that since house staff have not been engaged as yet – to either order out or send someone to pick up supplies or food, beverages for the duration of the night.  There is pizza coming & the order has been upped – and an initial large carafe of coffee will be brought in – I’ll light the firplace…  which she does, as she asks please help bring the boxes into the kitchen and thanks them for attendance.

Not sensing anything out of the ordinary – particularly with the storm continuing – the lead detail readily agrees and as Michelle walks back toward the kitchen – he sends a couple of his group up the stairs to re-check all the rooms.

He and another proceed toward the back of the house.

Michelle arrives at the kitchen island again – placing her hand on Obama’s arm & says softly “Barry – you must go into your study – now!  Come with me and I’ll explain…”. 

The girls have found some snacks and are at the counter at the far end of the kitchen – and turn to look toward their parents – Michelle puts one finger up and she and Barry disappear through the study door, just as the security detail walks in…  

The lead noticed the door shut – sees the girls and asks – none too inocently – “Thought you mother was back here…You know where she went?”

Malia answers cordially “Mom and Dad are in the study… She’s updating him on all our schedules for tonight.”

As she finishes stating this Michelle is exiting the study saying “Oh – coffee is almost ready Barry – I’ll bring it in in a moment…”.   Obama is heard in reply ” OK sweetie, thanks!” And the door closes.

She is just a few feet distant from the lead detail and looks at him expectantly – he flushes slightly, recovers then advises the house checks clear – just needs to check the walk-in pantry; does so; nods politely as he passes Michelle on the way back to the assigned parlor.

It’s now approaching 2200 hours.


This is a continuing work – 1/12/17 j Elliott ©

Just a bit of late night fiction here.

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