by Peter Parkin
“No, I don’t think you do. Beneath my calm, cool, West Point-engineered exterior, I have a burning rage. And it has to be extinguished. There’s only one way I know of to do that.”
Bill rubbed his forehead, massaging his temples. “What’s next?”
Sandy was silent for a few seconds. Then, he walked over to the window and gazed outside, keeping his back to the group.
“I’ve asked my Cosa Nostra contact to arrange a meeting for me with Triple-L. I’m going to be disguised, with a fake online identity. I need to find out more about this secretive sperm bank. I’ll let you all know what I find out, if anything.”
“What then?”
“I don’t know. But in the meantime, we have to realize that we’re all in danger. I think Linc and his people are trying to pick all of us off, one by one. This skeleton from the past has the potential to bring him down, ruin his plans for power. And maybe even send him to prison. More importantly, I think it fucks up the plans of his handlers. I wonder how much Linc is really in charge.”
Lloyd whispered, “I’ve arranged twenty-four-hour security for my wife.”
Bill nodded assent. “Same for me. My relatives are all protected right now, and for the foreseeable future. No point taking any chances here.”
Judy pulled a blanket up tightly around her chest. “And I want you two guys to stay with me until we figure this out. Okay? Best we all stick together right now. Please?”
25
“Who the hell are you people, anyway?”
Meagan Whitfield laughed at him in such a mocking way that it made Linc’s blood boil.
“I think that in all the years we’ve known you, that’s the first time you’ve asked that question. You are slow, aren’t you?”
Linc pounded his fist on the table, causing the coffee mugs to vibrate.
“Don’t talk to me that way, Meagan! I’m not some little puppet you can jiggle up and down!”
Meagan shook her head slowly, then turned towards Bob Stone. “You talk to him, Bob. I think our boy has a problem with strong women.”
Linc could feel the blood rushing to his face. His cheeks were red hot and the collar of his white Givenchy shirt felt moist around the neck. He loosened his tie and undid the top button.
“Yes, do that. Talk to me, Bob.”
Bob sighed. “I sure wish you two could get along better. Meagan, you need to choose your words more carefully, and Linc, you need to grow up and get your ego in check.
“And no, Linc, you are not our puppet. But, we do own you. We allow you considerable latitude to think on your own, but this whole thing is much bigger than you. We’ll make you a success, we’ll put you in the Oval Office, but you have to do things our way.”
Bob’s words had their usual effect. Linc started breathing easier, and he nodded his understanding. “Okay, but, answer my question—who are you, really?”
Bob glanced over at Meagan, and she gave a slight nod.
“Meagan’s right. I don’t think you’ve ever asked us that question before. We’ve been part of your life and your career for a very long time now. And, having attended West Point and as part of the Honor Guild, you knew that mentors like us would be involved in making your career a reality. You can’t deny you didn’t know that.”
Linc looked away, out through his boardroom window at his favorite landmark, the Texas School Book Depository. Once upon a time a sniper’s nest, now a simple museum. But still a powerful sight to behold.
“Yes, I knew that. But everything just started happening so fast. And, while you guys may have been pulling some strings for me, I gave myself a lot of the credit as to how well I was succeeding in life. As I said, I’m not some little puppet.”
Meagan spoke up, softly.
“We removed hurdles for you, Senator. Every step of the way. Hurdles that normal people have to deal with in life, you didn’t have to. We didn’t tell you about most of them—you didn’t need to know. Now, I wish we had told you every time we did something for you. I think your success has gone to your head.”
Linc glared at her.
“No, it hasn’t. But, I resent being told that what I’m doing isn’t enough. You called this meeting today because you feel I’m not being passionate enough in my speeches. I asked my speech writer to change direction, and I think Tanya has done a great job for me. As for my speeches, my audiences are always mesmerized. I doubt that I could do any better.”
Bob cracked his knuckles. “You’ll have to do better. More anger, and, as Meagan says, more passion. The polls are stagnant. The damn economy is still number one, and your task is to make fear number one. If the economy remains the biggest worry, you will lose against the Democrats, and that’s as blunt as I can be. We’ve come too far to lose. Losers seldom get second chances.”
“I’m not a loser.”
“Then, show us.”
Linc nodded. “Okay, okay, I’ll show more anger. I’ll get them riled up. But, you still haven’t told me who you people are. I’ve just taken your help over the years thinking that all of you were just political operatives, but it feels like it’s more than that. You engineered that Quincy Market terrorist attack, which set the stage for my political fortunes. For a while after that, fear was the number one concern. Now I’m talking it up again, reminding voters of the horror, and, over time, my speeches will have their effect. But, I’m feeling like I’m just a front for you people. So, who are you? About time you told me.”
Meagan clenched her hands together. “Bob and I arranged this meeting today to advise you of a trip we want you to take. We’ll call it sort of a spiritual revival for you, nothing more than that. But, before we tell you about that, I will bring you in on the picture a bit more. It’s probably time for that, and it might make you less resistant to the control we have to exert,” she said.
“Your destiny started getting mapped out the day your parents agreed to have your mother artificially inseminated. A group of us are shareholders of that sperm bank, Legacy Life Ladder. It’s exclusive, you know that—only the wealthy and well-connected. And the mothers being impregnated must have the best genetic match to the superior product the sperm bank provides.
“Your genetic composition, and that of your colleagues from the Honor Guild, are all of incredible superiority. All of the students from the Honor Guild are products of Triple-L. And all of the graduates have mentors, like you do, guiding them through their lives.”
She flicked a glance at Bob. “And all of us mentors belong to an elite group, a very secretive group. We represent some of the largest corporations in America, and we take our responsibilities seriously.”
Linc raised his hand to stop her. “How did you get into this group in the first place?”
Meagan shook her head. “That’s above your pay grade. Let’s just say it’s a ‘legacy’ thing, just like the name of the sperm bank. Can I continue?”
Linc nodded.
“We call ourselves the Aufsteigen Group.”
“Where the hell did that name come from? Sounds German?”
“It is German, even though hardly any members of our group have any direct heritage from Germany. We just like what it means and what it stands for.”
“And that is?”
“The word aufsteigen means ascension. Which is—to rise up, to soar.”
“I know what ascension means, Meagan. What are you rising up and soaring against?”
She shook her head. “Not against anything, per se—more being for something. Superiority, dominance. We feel we can accomplish our goals with leaders who are genetically superior—in politics, business, health sciences, technology, the military. We’re solely an American group, committed to America.”
Linc stood and walked over to the window. Stared out at the Depository building, and felt a smile begin to cross his face. He liked the word superiority, an
d loved the fact that they saw in him a specimen who was—genetically superior.
He turned around and faced them. “Thanks for answering my question. So, that’s who you really are. Not just my campaign advisers, or my mentors. You’re something called the Aufsteigen Group.”
Bob smiled. “Yes. And you’re our ascendant.”
26
After they cleared away his dishes, Linc pushed the magic buttons, transforming his first class seat into a first class bed. Across the aisle from him in the adjacent pod, his escort did the same thing. Some guy by the name of Horst, a combination bodyguard and translator provided by Meagan and Bob.
Linc closed his eyes and thought back over the meeting in his office a couple of days ago.
He’d learned a lot.
His ego had been reinforced by knowing that he was thought of as superior, although that really wasn’t a surprise to him. But he still needed to hear it once in a while, and he was pretty certain Meagan and Bob knew he needed to hear it. Clever of them, and all part and parcel of their desire to manipulate him.
He’d also learned who his handlers really were. Part of a mysterious clan called the Aufsteigen Group. Inspired by the objective of an ascension. And he was their ascendant. Linc liked the sound of that. He wanted to know more, but from the reaction of Meagan and Bob, he knew that at least for now that was all he’d be permitted to know.
Well, if they got him to the White House, he was fine with it. They could control him until then, but after that he figured he’d be able to break out and be his own guy. He’d be the most powerful man in the world. How much control did they really think they’d have over him then? As far as he was concerned, the Aufsteigen Group could then go find someone else to manipulate. He’d play along in the meantime.
Right now, he was en route to Buenos Aires, Argentina. An eleven-hour flight from Dallas, and a loss of two hours on the time difference when he arrived. He and Horst would stay at a hotel in the city that night, catch up on the jet lag, then head out for a long drive across the country. A sixteen-hour trek to some godforsaken place called Salta, in the far northwestern corner of Argentina. It actually would have been faster to fly to Chile, and then drive from there to Salta, but Meagan felt that security was better if they simply stayed within Argentina. He didn’t know what she meant by that.
Linc closed his eyes and began to ponder who this mystery man was that he would be meeting. Meagan said that he was not part of Aufsteigen, but that he was aware of the group and supported it. She told him he was a very old man. Linc asked how old, but, she didn’t answer him.
He tried to pin her down on why this visit to a very old man in Argentina was so important. She was vague, saying only that he was spiritual inspiration to Aufsteigen and that Linc would find him motivating. Now that Linc was poised to take over the reins of the United States government, meeting this wise old man would be an important step, and the timing was right.
Linc smiled. Pictured himself sitting behind the Resolute desk, reveling in the knowledge that it had been a gift from Queen Victoria to President Rutherford B. Hayes way back in 1880. Imagine, President Lincoln Berwick being one of the favored few to be able to make life or death decisions sitting behind such a relic of history. He wondered if he could launch his first nuclear strike from that desk.
Senator Berwick drifted off to sleep with a big smile on his face.
*****
Horst didn’t talk much. He concentrated on the drive. Linc offered to take over to give the guy a break, but he wouldn’t hear of it. They left Buenos Aires at 3:00 a.m., and it was now 6:00 p.m. Stopped along the way for three quick pee breaks and a sandwich by a roadside stand.
They were now on the outskirts of Salta. Linc could feel how thin the air was—the travel brochures that Horst had given him described this area as being in the foothills of the Andes, almost 4,000 feet above sea level.
During the drive, Linc had asked Horst several times who it was they were meeting. All he’d answered was, “Soon.”
Linc guessed “soon” had now arrived. Horst had pulled over to the side of the road and taken a long sip of his bottled water.
“The man’s name is Herman Braxmeier. He speaks only German—I will translate for you. We’ll be having dinner with him and his wife, Angela, and stay the night as well. We leave tomorrow.”
Linc shook his head. “That name doesn’t ring a bell. I know the names of most of the important people in the world. Why is he important?”
Horst allowed a rare chuckle. “You’ll see. And, you will show respect. Understand?”
“How old is this fellow?”
Horst put the car into gear, and pulled back out onto the highway.
“He’s 129 years old.”
Linc choked. “That’s impossible. The longest living person in the world died twenty years ago, and she was 122!”
Horst frowned at him. “Maybe she didn’t hold the record after all. And Herman has had excellent care over the years. Taken good care of himself, and had lots of help. You’ll see.”
Horst seemed to know his way around. Cruised the circumference of the main population center and headed out into the country. Quite isolated now, but Linc could see a large structure off in the distance, at the top of one of the mounds of the foothills.
As they approached, Horst turned off the radio, and reminded Linc once again to let him do the talking—and to show respect. Annoying.
The large white cement structure could just barely be seen behind the high walls that surrounded the property. And there were armed guards patrolling the exterior. Linc counted four men just at the front of the property alone, each with side arms on their hips and rifles slung over their shoulders.
Horst pulled up beside a booth and extended his hand out the window in some kind of salute. The guard seemed to know him. He nodded and pushed a button on a remote unit. The iron gates opened and they drove through into a large courtyard.
Another guard met them, and Horst handed him the keys. Then the guard pointed to the front door indicating they could proceed inside.
Linc followed Horst up the steps and through the front door into a large foyer. It was dark inside, very few windows in this front section of the house.
He felt insecure, out of control—and a deep sense that something ominous was about to happen. Linc didn’t like that feeling. For this entire trip, Horst had been in control, and treated Linc as if he was just a little kid, didn’t have the right to know anything. This was unsettling, and not the way Linc was accustomed to things. He was a U.S. Senator, for God’s sake and the future President of the United States. Horst didn’t seem to give a shit about that, and he got the feeling that this Herman character wouldn’t care either. Unsettling.
Another guard appeared and motioned them to follow him into a salon room. This area was cavernous, and the wall was lined with photos hanging from chains.
Linc walked around the room and examined the pictures. They were all World War II era, mostly of the infamous Nazi leader, Adolf Hitler, speaking to crowds, mingling with crowds, and saluting crowds in the familiar Nazi extended arm gesture.
None of the photos showed Hitler alone, always just as the prominence in the crowd. Linc could relate to that. He enjoyed seeing photos of himself that way.
The sound of rubber wheels running along wooden floors interrupted his thoughts. Linc turned away from the wall and watched as an elderly woman entered the room, pushing an even more elderly man in what looked like a gold-plated wheel chair.
Linc remembered Horst’s warning to show respect.
But he couldn’t hide his astonishment.
The elderly man, who was presumably Herman, smiled up at him from his wheel chair. A kindly smile. Or maybe the smile just looked kindly because he was so old and, at this point, so harmless as well. Old people always looked harmless and kindly, no matter what horro
rs they had committed in their younger lives.
Linc knew that his mouth was hanging open. But no words came out; no sound whatsoever.
Though, he wanted to say something, anything.
Even just a warm, “Pleased to meet you, Herman.”
Linc glanced back up at the ancient photos hanging from the wall, then back down at the smiling old man in the wheel chair. He did this several times—couldn’t help himself.
And, then he just knew. He didn’t know how he knew, because it was too crazy to comprehend.
But, somewhere deep down in the recesses of his soul, he knew.
27
With his customary morning tour of the laboratory and refrigeration units completed, Dr. Derek Schmidt headed back along the corridor towards the office section of the massive tenth floor complex.
He popped into one of the preparation rooms along the way.
“How’s the latest batch, Imre?”
A short bespectacled man in a white lab coat smiled and nodded. “Everything’s just fine. I think our client will be happy. Three good embryos to choose from, all male.”
“General Maitland?”
“Yes, these are his. We’ll be doing the implant to Mrs. Maitland on Thursday.”
“She’ll be one happy lady.”
Imre took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses on his lab coat. “This was a challenging one. Her eggs weren’t easy to get. And, that poor couple has waited a long time for this. Now, a baby is on the way. A happy day indeed.”
Derek patted the scientist on the back. “You can be proud. Another happy customer, and, of course, another worthwhile addition to the world is on his way.” He was proud of the fact that his facility was proficient in all aspects of birth challenges. Whether it be artificial insemination or in vetro fertilization, they were capable of performing the procedure successfully.
Derek resumed the walk back to his office. He enjoyed making the rounds every morning and also enjoyed the exercise it gave him. At seventy years of age, it was good for him to move his legs as often as he could. Sitting behind a desk for too long always caused them to stiffen up on him.