Brady Hawk 09 - Seek and Destroy

by R. J. Patterson

  “That would help explain Michaels’ sudden change of heart regarding Petrov and The Chamber,” Blunt said. “He’s trying to stay out of the picture now and put his finger to the wind to determine which way the court of public opinion is blowing. The moment it shifts toward one world, it’s over. He’s going to steamroll ahead—and likely retain some prominent position of power on the new governing cabinet.”

  “Honestly, Michaels is the least of our worries. To me, the most troubling aspect of what I’ve heard is Petrov is angling for a world military force next,” Fortner said. “She wants, in essence, a world police organization that will keep everyone in line.”

  “Any ideas on how to stop this?” Blunt asked.

  Fortner sighed. “You mean aside from putting a bullet in Petrov? I’d love to take her out right now.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t want to engender any sympathy for that woman or give fuel to our detractors. We have to prevent The Chamber from getting its hooks in the U.S. government, first and foremost. After that, we can expose Petrov before we take her out.”

  Blunt shook his head and forced a laugh. “And to think that just a few months ago, all we concerned ourselves with were madmen running around in the Middle Eastern desert.”

  “It’s always like that, isn’t it?” Fortner asked rhetorically. “You think there’s one thing that’s going to get you—but it never is. The thing that gets you is the thing you never see coming.”

  “Fortunately, we’ve seen Petrov in time.”

  Fortner nodded. “And now it’s time to show the world who she really is.”

  “The Firestorm team is back in Washington, trying to figure out a way to prevent the Supreme Court from giving Michaels the win he needs to push this one-world currency initiative forward, but after they’re done . . .”

  “You just let me know if and when you need any help,” Fortner said. “My men will be there to assist.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Istanbul, Turkey

  KATARINA PETROV CLOSED HER EYES and tilted her head back as the makeup artist dusted powder on her face. A natural beauty, Petrov loathed wearing anything on her face. She insisted foundation and other products made her face itch. But she relented due to the pressure of a producer who insisted by telling her that her face would wash out beneath the lights.

  Petrov didn’t care, but she cared what the producer thought. More to the point, Petrov was concerned with the general public’s perception of her. Winning them over was critical to building an unstoppable momentum.

  Once the lemmings realize this is the way to go, no politician will want to stand against them—even if elected officials know their offices will be vanishing.

  “Press your lips together like this,” the makeup artist said, closing her mouth and then making a soft popping sound.

  Petrov mimicked the woman several times before she nodded her head approvingly.

  “That’s it,” she said. “Perfect.”

  She handed a mirror to Petrov, who took it and studied herself for several seconds.

  “I hate it,” Petrov said. “Think there’s something else we can do? Another color perhaps? I look like a clown.”

  “But that bright red screams power,” the makeup artist said.

  Petrov pointed at her face. “I don’t need anything but my mouth to put people under my thumb. It’s not what I look like, but what I do.”

  The artist shrunk back before rushing to finish the job. She slipped out of the room without speaking another word.

  “Are we ready?” asked Janet Hubbard, as she poked her head in the door. “Interview is set to go live in five minutes. Tut, tut.”

  Hubbard, the vivacious host for Good Day, Britain, winked at Petrov and exited the room. Petrov agreed to appear on the show with Hubbard, who was famous worldwide, though Petrov assumed Hubbard’s popularity had more to do with her bust size than her journalistic prowess. Petrov had watched more than a dozen episodes of Hubbard’s favorable handling of her guests. Hubbard’s easy questions accompanied by plenty of slack-jawed expressions and effusive praises made Petrov comfortable about sitting across from her.

  Petrov walked into The Chamber’s makeshift offices and took a seat in the director’s style chair opposite Hubbard. Surveying the surroundings, Petrov smiled. She’d managed to secure the offices a week before the interview in order to give The Chamber a more legitimate presence. Her underground operation hidden well out of sight from the people of Istanbul and guarded night and day would’ve sent a chilling message, along with creating plenty of other questions. They were questions even Hubbard would’ve felt compelled to ask.

  The corporate feel to the temporary offices ensured that everyone involved on the production team would feel safe and welcome. Carpeted floors, big windows, plush furniture, modern light fixtures, soothing music piped into the lobby—everything anyone would’ve expected in a serious business environment.

  “Nice digs,” Hubbard said as she glanced around the room. “I love how you designed your logo with the T and the C. They go together so effortlessly. It’s incredibly thoughtful, like you, I suppose.”

  Petrov smiled, reaching deep to turn on the charm. She had it when she wanted it. Her KGB training had taught her that much.

  “You’re very kind,” Petrov said. “But I’m just trying to do my part and help the world get along. I’ve been fortunate enough to get into a position where I can influence change. And that’s what I want to do.”

  “On that note, let’s jump right into the questions I have for you regarding history of The Chamber and what your role is here and what you see this organization doing in the future.”

  “I guess I could talk for half an hour on those topics, so stop me if I’m getting long or veering off topic, will you?”

  “Of course, of course,” Hubbard said, tilting her head and smiling. “By all means, continue.”

  “Well, The Chamber has an interesting history, one that I wasn’t a part of when it originally was founded,” Petrov began. “Initially it was created as a charity, designed to help those in floundering countries, mostly poor people who were destined to die far before their time. The Chamber’s founder, Lord Byron Cornwall, had that in mind when he started. And initially that’s all The Chamber did—deliver food to the poor in developing nations through many different technological means. The organization also founded medical clinics, providing health care to those who’d never even seen a doctor, much less been to one.”

  Hubbard put her hand out, signifying her desire to speak. Petrov had seen enough of Hubbard’s interviews to know what she meant. “But why the change in recent years? Can you tell us about what prompted all that?”

  “About seven years ago, The Chamber had an identity crisis. We didn’t know if we wanted to be a charity or something more. In many of the different governments, we identified rampant corruption, which we determined was one of the main factors that people in those countries couldn’t escape cycles of poverty. The idea that we could help them seemed like a daunting one at first. I mean, really, what could we do about it? But that’s when we took our relationships with the common people—the people we were helping—to a deeper level. Instead of just helping them, we sought to understand what was causing all these problems.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “Exactly what I mentioned before—government corruption. Once we realized that, we understood that we’d be doing the same thing in a hundred years that we’re doing now. It’d be a constant refrain of helping people live hand to mouth. And that was never the vision for The Chamber. So, we sought ways that we could more seriously effect change.”

  “What specific ways do you now plan to address this issue?”

  Petrov looked pensively at her interviewer before answering.

  “That, of course, was the million dollar question—or in today’s environment, the billion dollar question,” Petrov said with a hint of a smile. “Overcoming
corruption isn’t something you can merely do by snapping your fingers and bobbing your head like you’re Mary Poppins. And honestly, corruption is part of human nature. Rooting out such systemic depraved behavior would take several generations, if it was even attainable at all. That’s why we realized the only way to put a dent in this behavior is to remove the human gatekeepers that make this possible.”

  “And based on some comments you’ve made in the media, you believe economic bodies in various countries to be the people you’re referring to. Am I right in making such an assumption?”

  Petrov nodded vigorously. “Absolutely, Janet. These people are the ones doing favors for the banking industry titans. All the while—to borrow the vernacular of our American friends—the little man is getting screwed.”

  Janet narrowed her gaze as curious lines flashed across her brow.

  “But haven’t you befriended bankers? How is what you’re doing different?”

  “That is a good question, Janet. And the truth is, I’ve vetted and targeted only bankers I deemed to be honest ones. In my dealings with them, I’ve only tried to persuade them that this will be best for everyone, even if their bottom line will take a hit.”

  “And they’re still willing to go along with your plan?”

  “I think most people in the banking industry realize that if the world enters into an economic downturn, nobody benefits. Economies are only as strong as the speed through which money is exchanging hands. If someone doesn’t understand that, they are being intellectually dishonest. And unfortunately, our current system allows those charlatans to prosper. But not anymore under this new proposal.”

  Janet nodded and eased back in her seat, glancing at her notes before she asked her next question.

  “You have an impressive lineup of nations who have publicly stated they will adopt your plan for a one world currency. But what about the United States? It seemed like they remain hesitant for whatever reason. How do you plan to win them over?”

  “I don’t,” Petrov said flatly. “It’s their choice, not mine. If they want to be the lone outlier in the global market, that decision is to their detriment. They will be forced to accept what the new market says in relation to exchange rates. I can promise you that resisting will result in painful upheaval in the U.S. economy.”

  Janet nodded and smiled. “Well, we will all be sure to keep an eye on those developments as the plan to adopt a one world currency continues to move forward.”

  Petrov watched as Janet turned directly toward the camera and wrapped up the interview with a few pithy comments and a prediction about how a one world economy would make the world a safer place as well as reduce poverty, which she reminded her viewers was the ultimate mission of The Chamber. It was unscripted television, but Petrov smiled knowing she couldn’t have chosen better questions to help further her agenda.

  It’s only a matter of time now.

  CHAPTER 15

  Washington, D.C.

  MOMENTS AFTER JANET HUBBARD’S INTERVIEW with Katarina Petrov hit the airwaves, snippets of their conversation were condensed and posted on social media. Less than an hour later, every live talk show on radio and television, was discussing the fallout of Petrov’s one world currency plan and her dire forecast about the U.S. economy should it maintain its isolationist economic policy. Hosts whipped their audiences up into a frenzy over the issue, leading to angry rants by callers who demanded wholesale changes in Washington. The internet was ablaze with opinions about the government leaders who were willfully walking Americans down a metaphoric plank.

  The furor across the country was just the kind of fuel President Michaels needed to get his way. And he didn’t have to wait long to get it either.

  By 1:00 p.m. on the East Coast, the Supreme Court made an unprecedented announcement that it would hear a case about the constitutionality of the Federal Reserve Act. And talk shows turned a raging fire into a wildfire powered by crosswinds. Anything else that happened that day would be forgotten in the annals of history.

  At 3:00 p.m., President Michaels climbed onto the podium and stepped behind the lectern. He remained stoic, trying to hide his pleasure regarding the Supreme Court’s announcement.

  “For years, this great country has relied upon trusted harbingers of the Federal Reserve to keep our financial institutions secure and trustworthy. But that time might be coming to an end.”

  Michaels straightened his tie and cleared his throat before continuing.

  “No country’s economic market can exist in a bubble, no matter how much we might wish it did. The truth is many of the jobs so many hardworking Americans rely upon to feed their families are the direct result of consumer purchases and businesses thriving beyond our borders. We cannot ignore those people, those same people who might be our neighbors across the street. And even if we did, we’d be fools to think we wouldn’t be negatively impacted in one way or another.”

  He paused to drink a glass of water and quickly survey the press corps eyeing him carefully. Assessing a crowd’s mood was a vital tool in delivering a successful speech, and Michaels excelled at it. From the looks on the faces of the reporters scattered in front of him, he could tell they were eating up his rhetoric and itching to share their thoughts with viewers.

  Just keep it simple.

  “As a country, we owe a great debt to those Americans who’ve served admirably on the Federal Reserve’s board. For over a century, the Federal Reserve has provided the stability necessary to help this country get through several trying economic periods and usher us into prosperous times again. But times have changed and it’s time for the Federal Reserve to change with it. A private body that is unwilling to change puts us all at risk and we can’t afford this type of leadership anymore. At some point, leadership that was once helpful often grows stale, fixated more on its power than its ability to guide others through unprecedented challenges. What we are facing now both as citizens of this country as well as wayfarers on planet earth is something no one has ever experienced before—and what worked in the past isn’t guaranteed to work in the future. In short, the future is happening now, and the Federal Reserve stands for a bygone era. It’s time for new economic leadership in this country.”

  He paused and took a deep breath, satisfied that he’d won over the vast majority of the reporters present.

  “Now I’ll take your questions,” he said.

  A cacophony of voices erupted as hands shot skyward. Michaels surveyed the eager inquirers for a friendly face. He settled on Tegan Volker from The New York Times.

  “Ms. Volker,” Michaels said, silencing the chorus of competing voices.

  She smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. President. If this situation is as dire as you’ve painted it, why not let the legislative branch rescind the Federal Reserve Act of 1913 and strip the board of its power? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

  “If we had the time, it would,” Michaels answered. “But I’ve come to the conclusion through the sage advice of many trusted economic advisors that to delay any action could result in catastrophic consequences for the U.S. Waiting simply isn’t something we have the luxury of doing in this case. There will be plenty of time to rewrite the laws as we know them regarding who sits over the governing financial body. But in the interim, we need to act quickly and decisively.”

  A few seconds of silence were interrupted by hand-waving troops chomping at the bit to get the president’s attention.

  “Yes, Mr. Hartman. You’re next,” Michaels said.

  Kyle Hartman, NBC’s Washington correspondent, had been mostly friendly in the past toward Michaels, which was why the following question stunned Michaels so much.

  “Is it true that you will assume a leadership position during the interim?” Hartman asked. “Seems a little bit beyond your purview, don’t you think?”

  The first question was a good one that every journalist needed answered. But Michaels took offense at quasi-question Hartman posited, which sounded more for his ben
efit than for helping clarify things for Michaels. But Michaels was ready for him.

  “Quite honestly, Kyle, I find that there are things that are beyond my purview each and every day as I hold this powerful office. There is no college course on how to become president. It’s just something you do—and you figure it out as you go along. I know that may not come as much comfort to you or many Americans, especially the ones who think I’m unqualified to hold this position. But I’ve already won the popularity contest, and my decisions from here on out are about doing the best job I can to prove to those who voted for me that they were right to trust me. If I don’t do that, I fail. However, it’s in my failing that I gain strength.”

  “But, sir, I—”

  Michaels held up his hand, which silenced Hartman for the moment.

  “My point is that I’m no more capable of handling this situation than I am selecting the best color to paint my bedroom to make sure it matches with the comforter on my bed. But like everything else I do, I’m going to do my best, which includes listening to seasoned veterans around me who are experts in this field and taking their advice to heart.”

  Hartman wasn’t satisfied with Michaels’ explanation.

  “But, sir, from what I’ve heard, the experts you’ve surrounded yourself with don’t seem to be interested in rocking the status quo. They hold fringe views that aren’t generally shared among the vast majority of the economic community. How can you really consider all sides of an issue if you have loaded your cabinet and advisory boards with yes men?”

  Michaels clenched his fists, trying hard to keep them hidden behind the lectern and out of sight from the opportunistic photographers’ pool, which would relish the chance to document his anger. He sifted through the notes on the podium, giving him time to cool down. After a deep breath, he responded to Hartman’s aggressive line of questioning.