by David Archer
“Don’t give me your high and mighty bullshit,” Martin said. “You’re no better than me, Marvin, you want your slice of this pie just as bad as I do. And what the hell is wrong with that, anyway? If somebody is going to be on top, what’s wrong with wanting to be the person in that position?”
Duckworth shrugged. “I never said there was anything wrong with it,” he said. “I simply said that you have to accept the risks that come along with the possible rewards. That’s the name of the game in politics, you know that. We all play this game, we make deals behind the scenes that benefit our constituents, but in order to get those benefits we end up having to give something else to one of our colleagues. If we can keep it all balanced, everybody is happy, but let something get out of balance and everybody points their fingers at us. Suddenly we’re the bad guys, right? It’s the same with this; as long as we make it happen smoothly, we’ll be heroes. Let anything go wrong and we are also the ones that are going to catch the blame.”
“Geez, you sound like my dad,” Martin said, sinking into the chair behind his desk. “He was in politics, you know. He started out as a small town mayor and ended up serving fourteen terms in the Senate. He said the same kind of thing you just did, that the only difference between being a hero and being a villain in politics is how many of your friends you can keep from stabbing you in the back. Well, we seem to have somebody out there doing a lot worse than stabbing us in the back, he’s shooting us through the head. I don’t know about you, but while I don’t mind taking a risk, I’m not going to put my life out there. I’m not going to die for this thing, you can bet on that.”
Duckworth sat down in a wing chair and looked at Martin.
“What do you think about the Ascension Project, Richard? What do you honestly think about it? The whole thing was conceived as a way to bring about some serious changes that might help us avoid letting our country slip completely back into the dark ages, right? Isn’t that the reasoning that Andrews gave for coming up with this entire plan?”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard the sales pitch. What I’m trying—”
“Shut up and listen,” Duckworth said. “While I believe that our dearly departed former president had his good points, if you really sit down and take a look at what the Ascension Project is out to do, it’s not going to make the world a seriously better place for anybody except those of us who end up on top. Oh, the little people will benefit to some degree, but it’s really us who will be the winners. That seems to be what the entire plan was all about from the beginning, except that poor old Andrews thought he was going to be the top guy. Maybe he’s making a deal with the devil in hell right now, because I can’t imagine him giving up the chance to rule somewhere. So now, Andrews is gone, and who were we going to put in his place? I know Perkowski wanted the job, but I’m sure Lewiston would have jumped at it, as well. Well, guess what, both of them are dead now. Who’s going to run this thing for us with them gone?”
“Hell, Marvin, I don’t know. I don’t even know what you’re talking about, who the hell cares who is going to be in charge of it now? Getting promoted is probably the best way to get a target painted on your head, have you thought about that?”
“Of course I thought about it,” Duckworth said. “The question is whether or not you have thought about it, Richard, because I’m planning to call an emergency meeting of the remaining members and nominate you for the top position. I thought it over pretty hard, and out of all the remaining members, you are the only one that I can see who might be able to bring this thing all the way through to its conclusion.”
Martin’s eyes were wide, and his eyebrows looked like they were trying to fly away. “Me? Why on Earth would you think I would want to be on top? Are you not listening to anything I’ve had to say? What I want to do is crawl my way down into the sewers and stay there until they catch whoever this sniper is and put him away. I don’t want to die, Marvin, can you understand that?”
“I’ll tell you what I can understand,” Duckworth said. “Somebody has to take over. Now, I thought you might be the right guy for the job, but if you don’t want it, then we need to find out who does.” He scowled and looked like he was deep in thought. “Well, dammit, the problem is that I just don’t know that many of the remaining members. I’ll tell you what, we need to put together a meeting and we need to do it soon. I’m going to contact everyone I know, and I want you to do the same. We can all meet out at my place, you know where it is?”
Martin nodded, but he didn’t seem happy. “I know where it is, out past Bethesda.” He seemed to think about the proposal for a moment. “When do you want this meeting? I can call everybody I know in the organization, and they can pass it on to the ones we don’t know.”
“I think tomorrow night,” Duckworth said. “I wish it could be tonight, but I’m sure some of them are going to have to make arrangements in order to attend. Let’s try to put this together fast, but we need everybody possible to be there. Somebody has to step up and take command, and I don’t know who’s left that’s really qualified, other than you.”
“What about you?” Martin said suddenly. “Look at you, you’re the one who’s trying to save this thing right now. You’re the one who’s talking about taking risks and not being afraid, why don’t you take it over and run it?”
Duckworth smiled at him. “Oh, I would,” he said. “The only problem with that is that the rest of the members don’t know me well enough. I’ve only been in the outfit for a few months, they don’t even bother to trust me with knowing about the events. If they’re not going to trust me to know what I’m part of, I sincerely doubt they’re going to trust me to make the decisions for them. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I just happen to know that quite a few of the members think very highly of you, Marvin, so I might just nominate you, myself. I could get a second on the motion, and if I present it the right way, I can probably get it to carry. How about it, are you willing? If I can sell them on putting you in charge, are you willing to wear that target on your back?”
Duckworth shook his head. “Richard, Richard,” he said. “I told you, I would be more than willing to do whatever it takes to bring the project to fruition. We’ve got our entire reputations staked on this, we don’t dare fail to complete it, now. Can you imagine what would happen if the Russians pull off their end of it, and we can’t complete our own? We’d be the laughing stock of the world, and America cannot afford that. You want to nominate me? Fine, go right ahead. If the members are desperate enough to actually put me in charge, I will do everything I can to help this come to the best possible conclusion.”
“That’s good, then,” Martin said. “And it would settle the issue about letting you know all the details of the plan. The events are already scheduled, there’s no stopping them, now, but we need to have somebody in the head spot who can step up during the aftermath. The people respect you, maybe more than they respected Andrews. You’d be perfect for the job.”
Duckworth left Martin’s office a few minutes later, completely amazed at how the meeting had turned out. The last thing he had ever expected was that Martin might want to turn the tables on him. The reason he was talking about trying to put Martin in control was because he knew the man was an idiot, a fool who would help to bring the project to ruin without even really knowing what he was doing. The chance to put a nitwit at the helm of a ship that should never sail in the first place sounded like a good idea, but if Martin’s crazy plan to move Duckworth into control could, by some miracle, succeed, then Duckworth would have access to all of the names in the conspiracy, all of the information on the planned terror events, and an awful lot of information about the Russian contingent.
He headed back toward his own office, and finally let himself think about his former colleagues who died the night before. A part of him hated to think about them at all, because he was fully aware that he was part of the reason they were dead. True, he didn’t believe there was any other way to stop th
e worst possible thing that could happen, but it still felt terrible to him to know that he had participated in arranging the deaths of his peers. Some of them weren’t really all that bad, but had fallen under the sway of Andrews’ charisma.
He glanced at his watch, the same one he had worn since he first came to Washington thirty years earlier, and saw that it was approaching lunchtime. He was supposed to be meeting with Barbara Holloway for lunch, and decided that he might as well tell her about that crazy meeting with Martin.
* * * * *
Barbara Holloway walked into the Good Stuff Eatery at ten minutes to twelve, ordered her burger, fries, and toasted marshmallow milkshake, and carried them on the tray to the second floor, where it was possible to find a table that afforded some basic privacy. She wasn’t terribly surprised to find Marvin Duckworth already waiting there, and smiled as she sat down across from him in the booth.
“You got here first, today,” she said. “That’s unusual, you must have something important you want to share.”
“You could say that,” Duckworth replied. “I had an interesting meeting with Richard Martin this morning. He’s panicking over what happened at the Lincoln Club last night.”
“Good. I hope they’re all panicking. What makes this meeting so interesting?”
“Dick was ranting and raving about how the leadership of the Project is all getting killed off,” Duckworth said. “I played the good little comrade, of course, told him that we were naturally going to be facing some risks in taking on such a vast undertaking, but he’s downright terrified. Watching him trying to fight back tears, I got this wild idea of suggesting that we call together a meeting of all the surviving members we can reach and nominate Dick to take over as project head.”
“Dick Martin? The man is a tit, Marvin.”
Duckworth chuckled and grinned. “And you can think of a better way to destroy the project? Don’t worry, he isn’t going for it. In fact, he’s insisting that he could sell the remaining members on putting me in charge.”
A French fry stopped halfway to Holloway’s mouth. “Are you serious? He actually thinks he could do it?”
“Says he does,” Duckworth replied. “I personally have my doubts, but if everyone is as shook up over the assassinations as he is, he might actually pull it off. I told him we need to set up a meeting for tomorrow night, out at my farm, so we can talk about it. I’m thinking about seven o’clock. Can you make it?”
The fry got put back on the plate and Holloway stared at him. “Marvin,” she said, “are you actually considering trying to take it over?”
“Of course not,” Duckworth said. “What I am thinking, however, is that Martin claims the events are already set up and can’t be stopped. Well, we know that Allison has a way to contact her people, and I think we should invite them to this meeting. Barbara, we need all the information we can get, and they are just the ones who can get it. Some of these people know about the events, and just how far along they really are in planning and preparations; if Martin is right, we need to know that, right now. They would also know about the Russian connection. I’m not sure how we would handle it, but we have to stop them, too, or we could all end up under Kremlin rule.”
Holloway was quiet for several seconds, then slowly nodded her head. “I can be there,” she said. “I’ll spread the word among the members I know. Should we say anything about you being nominated to take over?”
“Oh, no, let’s let Dick get the egg on his face for that one. He may talk about it, but if anybody asks, you just say that we need somebody who knows more about it in charge. I don’t want anybody thinking I’m actively trying to campaign for the spot.”
“Okay. You want me to contact Allison?”
“I think that would be safest,” Duckworth replied. “We’ve got the rumor going around that you and she are friends, so that would look least suspicious.”
Holloway took out her phone. “Hang on, I want to do this now.” She dialed the number and put the phone to her ear.
“Allison,” she heard a moment later.
“It’s Barbara, sorry to bother you again,” Holloway said. “Can you talk?”
There was a beep, and then Allison came back on the line. “I’m secure,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“There’s been a major new development,” Holloway said. “Marvin spoke with one of the other members this morning, and it led to setting up a meeting of all the surviving members tomorrow night. The meeting will be held at his place outside Bethesda, his old family farm. We were thinking that we might want to send an invitation to your friends, because there’s a lot we need to know and these people know it. Marvin was told that the ‘events’ are already set up and ready to go, so we need to find out what we can about how to stop them, but these people will also have information about the people in Russia who are involved in the Ascension Project. They have to be stopped, as well.”
“Good God, Barbara,” Allison said. “Give me the address, and I’ll get a message out to them immediately.”
A moment later, Holloway ended the call and put the phone back into her purse. “Okay, she’ll do her best to get word to them. Now, the question is what do we do with the rest of the members after the interrogations are over?”
Duckworth grimaced. “That’s going to be a tough call,” he said. “Do you think there’s any possibility we’ll be able to trust them afterward? Because, if not…”
“Exactly,” Holloway said. “If not, then they need to be eliminated anyway.”
Duckworth shook his head. “It amazes me that you can accept that so calmly,” he said. “Even though I know what they were trying to do, even though I agreed it had to be done, I still feel dirty over being part of the assassinations that have taken place already. You just seem to take it in stride.”
“Marvin, assassination is nothing but a political tool. Politics is the business we’re in, and sometimes we have to use whatever tool is available.”
Duckworth looked at her for a moment, then shook his head once again. “I hope and pray I never end up on your bad side,” he said.
Chapter TWENTY-FIVE
Neil was at the computer, scanning the countryside along the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. He had hacked into one of the spy satellites and was seeing the roadway in real time. Noah was leaning over his shoulder as the two of them worked together in Neil’s room. The rest of the team was watching TV in Noah’s.
“There,” he said, pointing at a stand of trees. “What about that spot? Is it likely to still be like that now?”
“This is live,” Neil said. “This is satellite G-444, one of the NGA’s supposedly secret ones. It used to be over Central America, but the last president wanted a better look at the neighborhood around the White House, so he ordered it moved.”
“Good,” Noah said. “That looks like a good place for me to set up, and...”
A chime sounded, and Neil pointed at an icon in the task tray. “Message from Molly,” he said. “Give me a minute to decode it.” He clicked on the icon and collected the message that had been relayed through Catherine Potts, a new series of number groups, and copied it. A moment later, he pasted it into the program Molly had written and let it crunch them.
“Here’s the message,” he said, leaning aside so Noah could read it on the screen.
All remaining members of the Ascension Project should be gathered at 99875 Potter’s Mill Road, Bethesda, Maryland at 8 PM tomorrow evening. Allies within the organization request your presence for interrogation and disposition. Urgent we learn about planned terror events already set to happen and Russian compatriots. Highest possible priority. Allies include Holloway, Duckworth and Gibbs, possible others to be revealed on site.
“Holy crap,” Neil said. “Boss, what do you think? Could it be a trap?”
“It says allies request our presence,” Noah said. “That means someone Allison trusts is making the request, so I think it’s legitimate.” He looked at the message again. “She refers to
the ‘planned terror events.’ Is it possible they’ve already been set in motion?”
Neil shrugged. “Molly said they might speed up their timetable. If they’ve already got the plan to kill a bunch of kids started, we need to find out how to stop it, and fast.” He looked at Noah. “You’re gonna need to turn Jenny loose on them, boss.”
Noah looked at him for a moment and nodded. “Send back, ‘Happy to attend the party,’ and we’ll go tell the others we’ve got a party to attend. We’re all going in on this one.”
“All of us?” Neil asked, as he encoded and sent the message. “Boss, you know how much I hate it when when you kill someone right in front of me.”
“Can’t be helped,” Noah said. “We have no idea how many people are in the group of surviving members. It could take all of us to maintain control of the situation.” He pointed at the message on the screen. “Wait just a minute. Can you get us a look at that location?”
“Yeah, give me a minute.” Neil went back to the satellite view and made some adjustments. The view slid sideways and then began to zoom in. “Looks like some kind of estate,” Neil said. “Big house, there are several barns or outbuildings. That looks like a fence line around it, so it’s probably several hundred acres.” He gave an approving nod. “To be honest, boss, it looks like the ideal place to interrogate a bunch of prisoners. There’s not going to be anybody close by to hear the screaming.”
“That’s what I wanted to know. Let’s go.” They left Neil’s room and went to Noah’s.
“Okay, gang,” Noah said. “We’ve just received a message. I’m not sure of the details, but somebody has arranged for all of the remaining conspirators to be gathered up in one place tomorrow evening. We’re going to crash the party. Marco, you, Sarah, and Neil will need to keep everyone under control while Jenny and I handle interrogations. It appears that these people will know the details about the so-called ‘terror events’ they’ve been planning, and we need to make sure they’re not going to happen. In addition, some of these folks will have information about the Russian end of this thing, which also has to be stopped.”