“He’s at the Eisenhower building. He has an interview with a superior officer this afternoon. We are taking care of it,” Sordid said forcefully, knowing it wasn’t an ideal setting, but it had to be done.
Alexander Sordid was a self-made billionaire. What most people didn’t know was that the wealthiest banking families had helped bankroll his ascension to power and, even today, continued to funnel money to him. With Sordid playing a public role, the banking families could remain off the radar until they completed their takeover of the United States. Then, when the US fell, they’d have an open path to controlling the global economy.
The banker acknowledged, “I assume you’ll handle it similarly to the last one.”
They had assassinated one other person in a federal building in Washington. They had kept it out of the media. The government had no incentive to broadcast that one of its secure buildings had been infiltrated, and these men surely didn’t want anyone to know. Those assassins were never caught, and both had been killed shortly afterwards.
“Similarly, yes. The guns are already planted, and they don’t know who hired them.”
The Senator had left the banker’s office a few hours ago. After a brief hesitation, the banker asked, “The senator give you the information?”
Sordid nodded. “It was in his best interest.”
The banker understood. “Is The Cleric taking care of it?”
Sordid nodded. The Cleric was his main person on the streets orchestrating the civil unrest, bribing politicians and working with the deep state within the government. It was a nice arrangement. The globalist bankers, headed by Rothmayer funneled money to Sordid. He in turn, funneled money to The Cleric and others like him. The Cleric had a residence in the USA and did the dirty work. This way, Sordid himself had less exposure and the bankers, especially Rothmayer, had virtually no exposure. Sordid wasn’t the only person doing this, but because he was one of the more well-known, the banking families compensated him extremely well. He was fine with that.
“Will we be able to get them out?”
Sordid answered, “Everything’s taken care of. We have an exercise scheduled and, in the confusion, they’ll be able to get out with the first responder teams.” He knew the banker didn’t want details, just to know that there would be no loose ends.
That handled, it was time to talk about other pressing issues. Sordid and the banking patriarch got together infrequently, and when they did, the old man wanted to discuss key initiatives. After all, he had funded tens of billions in black gold and dollars in order to achieve their objectives.
“What about the budget and, specifically, the president’s plans to run a surplus?” The banker asked.
This was the primary concern of the banking families. The Senate minority leader had informed them that the president planned to run a surplus. The president had been in office long enough now to realize how simple that would be. He began disseminating it among a few of his top aides. The president planned to make other countries pay their remaining fair share of the NATO budget, saving almost four hundred billion, and then enact the cuts that the Citizens Against Government Waste (CAGW) published, which would ‘save taxpayers $336 billion in the first year.”1
The president also planned to cut 250 billion that was illegally being funneled overseas without authorization. He’d learned this from the team he’d created to review the NSA database. That made a significant surplus without any real cuts to anyone in America, almost guaranteeing the support of the American people.
If the president continued undoing the unfair tariffs other countries had put on the US and if he made new deals, he could run a billion-dollar surplus in a second term.
The banker bellowed, “That can’t happen!”
Sordid appeared confident. “Understood. It won’t.”
They both knew their history that, in 1821, when reliable tariff statistics began, nearly all imports (95.5%) were taxed, and duties imposed equaled 43.2% of the total value of all imports and 45% of the dutiable value.2 These tariffs were the means by which the US counteracted countries that manipulated the currencies.
But, as the economy matured, the US instituted better environmental, health and safety and labor laws. As time went on, these bankers wanted to exploit these regulations in the US, so they began paying off senators. Congress largely gave up on setting the details of US trade policy. Starting in 1934, it delegated to the president authority to negotiate trade deals with other countries.3
They had also learned that the president planned to run a trillion-dollar surplus by implementing a fair trades surplus act. According to PEW research, World Bank data, 2018, the Tariff rate, applied, weighted mean, all products,4 can increase government revenue by at least another 250 billion by just having ten to twenty percent of goods come back to the US to be manufactured.
Sordid added, “The senator has assured us that he and his companions will not allow any of this at this time. He has assured us we’re good until the election.”
“I understand. The part that’s unsettling is that the president has gotten to a few of the senators and they’ve turned on us.” Rothmayer hesitated and then continued, “We’re okay for today, but how long will it last?”
Up until now, no citizen had reached the office of president without the total support of the globalist bankers. George Carnegie was the first.
Rothmayer then changed the subject to something more current. “I see the social media programs are in place and they appear to be working. What about the president? He appears to be starting to investigate it.”
Sordid knew the president had done several internet searches of himself and found that the good things he was doing were being filtered off the first pages.
“He won’t get congressional support,” Sordid said, referencing their control over Congress.
Rothmayer continued, “What about the possibility of an executive order?”
Sordid nodded in agreement. “He could do that, but soon he’ll have too many other things to worry about. Even if he did, we have men on the inside, and we’ll have it worded so we can get around it. If he forces the issue and gets specific, we’ll mobilize resistance and law suits.”
“How are the funds holding out for marketing?” Rothmayer was referring to the funding for the media. Most of the mainstream media had lost well over thirty percent of their viewership, and Sordid had to find creative ways to keep them propped up financially.
“We’ve been able to fund them until the next budget. The President’s so busy he didn’t know anything about the increased funding being funneled to us in the last extension. That may become an issue if someone catches it next time,” Sordid answered.
“That’s one area where we can’t take any short cuts, so ensure they’re well supported.”
Sordid nodded. “Of course.”
Sir Rothmayer had other banking issues to take care of. He got up. “Let me know when that last loose end is taken care of.” He meant he wanted to know when the man on Krieger’s team who had possibly found out too much, had been terminated. “I’ll be expecting good news very soon. This is going to be a very busy day.”
“Yes, it is, a very busy day,” Sordid agreed.
Neither man could imagine what was happening in the Eisenhower building at that very moment.
Chapter 5
Krieger exploded through the door with his shoulder and took a step to the right, his weapon at the ready and Mindy to his left. The man on the other side of the conference table was in his sights. Krieger squeezed the trigger twice.
These two men had shot everyone in the room, and Krieger had targeted the man who was advancing to finish Davis off with a head shot. Only the deep state would attempt something like this, here and now, and though they may not have known it, they were mere feet from the Vice President.
His heart rate surged and pumped ex
tra oxygenated blood through his entire body as he moved right, knowing he didn’t have enough time to squeeze off one more shot before the second assailant squeezed one off at him. Mindy set her sights on the second man just inside the doorway. Her perfectly placed shot hit the man mid-chest, sending him back into the corner of the room against the door jamb. She maintained her foot placement. Following him in her sights, she completed her short burst of three 9mm slugs to the man’s chest.
Krieger’s man had sprayed shots as he fell backwards.
Scanning the room, Krieger saw an image in the closing door. He yelled, “Watcher!” That was their term for someone doing overwatch, or in this case, someone watching the hallway to ensure a safe exit for the two inside.
“Secure the room,” was all Mindy heard as Krieger rushed towards the open doorway.
Two rooms down, the agent assigned to stay with Adam was guarding the door to the adjoining rooms. She failed to notice as Adam opened the door into the hall. A man was running directly towards him. With no time to evade, Adam cocked his left hand and sprang from the security of the doorway to execute a perfect C strike with his open hand to the upper part of the man’s throat. He followed through with all his might. The man’s feet flew into the air over his head. Adam continued to follow through until the man was horizontal with the ground. Then Adam executed a hammer-fist strike to the bridge of his nose, sending the man’s head cracking against the marble floor.
Adam sensed something coming at him, then he heard shots and his whole body jolted.
The force of a 200-pound man hitting him hard disoriented Adam. He went from being on one knee, finishing off the first man, to being knocked over with another man on top of him. Adam’s adrenalin surged. He exploded to stand. He took a deep breath and his knees remained flexed; he was ready to move in either direction. As his lungs filled with air, he realized the man at his feet wasn’t moving and hadn’t latched on to him.
Adam saw blood on his suit. He rubbed his hands over his chest; no pain. Krieger had charged down the hallway and had his gun pointed at the man on the floor. Adam realized Krieger had shot the man as he was charging towards him, and the man had fallen on Adam in a heap. Krieger bent down and turned over the hitman. He was dead.
Krieger pushed the top and bottom of his belt buckle together, completing the connection for his speaker. His voice resonated with urgency through his microphone to the person in charge of all his communications. “Mauricio, get the whole team down to the basement. Shots fired, code red — this is not a drill. The vice president is at risk.”
Krieger pulled out a set of carbon steel hand cuffs and cuffed the man Adam had downed. He stood and shook his head, looked at Adam and said, “They must have had two men watching the outside of the door.” He realized he had only seen one, solidifying that these were trained operatives.
A moment later, the agent from the conference room Adam had been in ran past them. She went down the hallway, broke open the glass case full of bullet proof vests, grabbed a few and ran back up the hallway to Adam and Krieger. Handing one to each, she said, “Here put these on.”
Upstairs on the first floor, no one paid any attention to the long-term CIA agent casually walking out through security on his way to the street.
Chapter 6
Within seconds, Major Mauricio appeared at one end of the hallway. He ran to Krieger’s aid. Support began pouring in behind him.
Krieger ordered, “Get the vice president up to the second floor and stay with him.”
“Roger that,” Mauricio replied.
Krieger added, “And secure the area. The vice president was not here, and he was never in any danger, understand? I want a full blackout on this.”
“Understood.” Mauricio turned and looked at the soldier to his right. “Alvarez, you come with me.”
Mauricio turned to escort the vice president to the secure elevator.
Krieger had just flipped the unconscious assailant over like a child when Mindy poked her head out of the interview room urgently called down the hall for him. “Colonel, Davis is hit bad, but he needs to talk to you now. He wants to tell you something.”
Krieger thought, what was the reason for a professional hit like this? Who set it up and why? Davis was an undercover truck driver who had transported illegals across the border in the previous administration, although that wasn’t exactly above top-secret intel at this point. It was known in the right circles and had stopped. It must have been something else, but what?
Krieger came through the doorway and directed Mindy, “Don’t let anyone in here yet.”
“Affirmative,” Mindy said, then added, “The room’s secure, sir.”
After Mindy had pulled the dead administrator’s lifeless body off Davis to check his condition, Davis pleaded to speak with Krieger.
Krieger knelt next to Davis. Blood from Davis’s cough spewed onto Krieger’s suit.
Davis strained to speak. “You know about the trucks bringing illegals over the boarder?”
Krieger nodded. He knew Davis didn’t have much time. He could see Davis fading as his breath gargled with blood. “We know, don’t talk… save your strength.”
Davis squeezed Krieger’s lapel and pulled him closer with his last bit of strength, and hissed, “Gold, they were taking the gold across the border.”
This was something else, something totally different.
Krieger asked, “What gold?”
Davis wheezed, “They were taking gold across the border in trucks and buses. Illegals coming across were a diversion… It was the gold.”
Krieger was startled. “They were taking gold out of the country in the trucks… then they brought illegals in?”
Davis nodded. His strength was fading, and his eyes had started to close.
Krieger passionately questioned, “Who… who was orchestrating this?”
Davis pulled Krieger closer. He whispered a message, then wheezed his last breath.
Krieger stood, actuated his speaker phone and said to Mauricio, “After you secure the Vice President, get a local team here immediately. Quarantine this area and get it cleaned up in twenty minutes and keep the place secure until the scene is clean.”
The CIA had the best equipment in the world to clean up a crime scene, and they could do it in under half an hour.
Krieger pondered Davis’s last comment. “They’re pulling the trigger.”
“They’re pulling the trigger.”
* * *
George opened the door and stepped out on the Truman balcony. It was dark now. The president stood, legs apart, his hands on his hips. The expression on his face was fraught with anger. This was a character seldom seen by anyone. He looked past the south lawn of the White House and gazed out to the Washington monument. Not only had he underestimated the number of deep state operatives, he hadn’t understood that they’d be working hand in hand with him pretending to come to his aid, while at the same time undermining him, leaking key information. In addition, all their fake news took time to counter. It was all designed to slow him down so he wouldn’t expose what life could be like if the country were run by patriotic people who had the nation’s best interests at heart.
If he succeeded doing what he wanted to do in his second term, he’d expose that Washington was almost totally infiltrated by globalists. He’d expose that lower taxes and an agenda to strengthen the nation would give people a dramatic improvement in their lifestyle. Doing that would change the political landscape towards nationalism for decades to come.
He had just begun to understand the significance of the money that politicians and deep state made on kickbacks, making themselves rich, and he had gradually been exposing it to the people using social media. These payoffs were massive, and included past presidents, vice presidents, the speaker and countless others. With a second term, he and Adam would bring these people to jus
tice.
The warm Washington breeze came from the North Atlantic current. It smelled fresh and clean.
George thought. It started before I was sworn in, and it continues …
Right after George had taken office, someone had tipped off ISIS about the whereabouts of a SEAL team that was going on a rescue mission. The SEAL team had flown directly into an ambush.
It had been hard for George to make those calls to the parents, knowing that someone had leaked the whereabouts of the team to ISIS. Of course, he couldn’t reveal that information.
The terrorists had hit the SEAL team and taken only one casualty. The rest had got away clean. The SEALs’ backup teams had responded quickly, but the orchestration of such a precise attack suggested more sophisticated planning and execution than a typical ISIS attack. Even the way the team had been called to that area was beyond suspect. It defied SEAL protocol. George couldn’t talk about that either. It was obvious that something had been set in motion to reduce his stature, but it hadn’t worked.
There were only a few people who knew about it, and Adam had used that to talk George and Krieger into finding the leakers and bringing them to justice — officially or unofficially, depending on what they found.
George’s mind focused back to the present as Adam was leaving a meeting and heading over to the White House. George was anxious to hear Adam’s perspective of what had happened at the Eisenhower building that day.
Return of Our Country Page 3