Empire

by Brandt Legg

  Chapter Fifty

  Titus Coyne strolled into the Oval Office as if it was his own living room. “Love what you’ve done with the place,” he said, smiling in a full charismatic assault.

  The president shook Coyne’s hand across the Resolute Desk and returned the smile. “I plan on staying a while, so I might as well make it suit my style.” Hudson had made only minor changes to the Oval Office’s décor, certainly not enough to be noticeable or out of character for the historic room, but he played along. “Great desk though, huh?” the president said, knocking on the hard wood. “Lots of secrets.”

  “I’m sure,” Titus said. “Would you mind terribly if we had our little chat while strolling the grounds? I always find the Oval Office so stuffy, don’t you?”

  Hudson looked at the fifty-nine-year-old billionaire and couldn’t help but laugh at his insulting charm. They’d only met once before, at a banking conference where the president was speaking while still a candidate. Coyne had said to Hudson then, “I’m not really sure why Vonner’s wasting his time with you. Aren’t you a construction worker, or something? Isn’t he worried that you might win?”

  “Titus, that’s a nice suit. What’d it cost?” the president asked. “I’m guessing three times what my annual teacher’s salary was back in the day.”

  “You weren’t a teacher too long, were you?”

  The president ushered him to the door leading outside. “When I told Fitz I would be meeting with you today, he asked me to say hello to ‘the old shark.’”

  Coyne smiled as if complemented, but his eyes registered insult.

  “But I didn’t want to insult you,” the president added. “I always thought you preferred to be called a ‘Bankster.’”

  “Yes. Yes, I do,” he said, as if amused. “I asked to see you today because I’m a little concerned that some of my friends have been, how should I say it, dying lately.”

  “Friends?” Hudson was about to say, ‘I didn’t realize you had any,’ but decided the sparring had gone on long enough.

  “Yes.” Titus went on to name five REMies who’d been killed in the previous six weeks.

  “I’m not sure why you’re bringing this up with me. Certainly I’m aware of their deaths. They were all prominent business leaders, and correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t the causes of deaths listed as various accidents or natural causes in each case?” the president asked as they entered the Rose Garden. “Admittedly, the timing of five such powerful individuals dying so close together does seem remarkable . . . ”

  Coyne stopped and stared at the president. “Please, Mr. President, you’re not an idiot. Vonner, who could also be added to that list of dead, would not have chosen a fool. Although, depending on his objectives, which were always a bit clouded in cocktails as far as I could see, he managed to get you into power, and you’ve certainly caused a lot of trouble in a short time, so perhaps he was more sober than I give him credit for.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Good, then let’s not pretend that those deaths are anything other than what they are. NorthBridge is removing REMies.”

  “You do realize that I’ve been trying to stop NorthBridge?”

  “Of course you have.” Coyne half smiled. “I’m sure you mean well. It’s just hard to tell that you’ve been doing anything at all with NorthBridge, what with all their successes and all your failures.”

  “Titus, are you asking for my help, or are you just here to offer criticism?”

  “I think both of us would agree it’s not a good idea to have some of the most prominent people in the world just all of a sudden drop dead one by one, or in groups.”

  “Really? Are these people truly friends of yours?” the president asked. “Because you’re going for the CapStone. Wouldn’t fewer REMies around mean less competition?”

  “Competition has never been a problem for me. You see, money begets power, and power begets more money. It’s a lovely little circle.”

  “Nothing little about it,” Hudson said sharply. “Maybe we should talk about MADE events.”

  “What? Are you wearing a wire?” Titus asked, patting the president’s shoulders, and then smiling as a nearby Secret Service agent moved closer.

  The president waved the agent off. “I doubt you’d be concerned about a wire. We both know in the current environment you and your kind are impervious to those types of tactics.”

  “My kind?” Titus echoed indignantly. “As if I’m some type of creature?”

  “Exactly.”

  The REMie flashed a fake smile. “Which MADE event do you want to talk about? Or are you insinuating that REMies dying are MADE events?”

  “I’m surprised the REMies aren’t turning them into MADE events. Or are they too scared? Maybe they’re finally afraid of something.”

  “Fear is our business,” Titus said, admiring a large white rose.

  “That’s the problem,” the president replied.

  “The problem is NorthBridge. They’re the distraction. And it’s Booker Lipton who’s using them.”

  “Why?”

  “For the CapWar,” Titus said, as if it were the most obvious reason possible. “I think Arlin Vonner and Booker Lipton sat down on the beach of one of Booker’s islands and concocted this whole thing.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  Titus looked at him with contempt. “NorthBridge, you, the REMie take down plan . . . It’s always about distracting people and getting them not to look behind the curtain to see the real power, right? That’s the game, and it has always worked. Sex scandals, mass shootings, terrorism, foreign threats, financial bubbles—those are the big ones. Booker and Vonner just went nuclear and turned the empire in on itself.”

  “They hated each other.”

  “So? Everyone hates everyone until there’s money to be made. Is Vonner even dead?”

  Hudson was surprised at the question. He’d often wondered if Vonner’s death had really been from natural causes. At the time, Kensi, and later Rex, had both assured him they believed it was not an assassination. But in light of the rash of REMie deaths lately, he’d rethought that position and wondered if perhaps Vonner was just the first in this final volley of the CapWars.

  Is Booker really trying to wipe out his competitors so he can gain total control? Or is this part of NorthBridge trying to save the world from the REMies’ empire?

  But Coyne’s proposition that Vonner might not really have died seemed ludicrous.

  Titus was staring at him, as if reading his mind. “Mr. President, you should know by now that nothing is what it appears.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that Vonner would leave all his money to Schueller and fake his death.”

  “Ha, you think Vonner only had, what was it, $50 billion? No wonder you think you can beat us. It would be impossible to even make a run at the CapStone without at least ten times that much!”

  Hudson couldn’t hide his shock. REMies worth half a trillion dollars? If that were true . . . and what about the rest of Vonner’s money?

  “But—”

  “Yeah, but,” Titus said, laughing. “The complexities here dwarf whatever you could imagine.” He studied the president for a moment. “Do you really think we’re worried about you and your rag-tag group of choir boys? You’re nothing but a few fleas. I don’t even remember your name half the time.”

  “Titus, you don’t impress me.”

  “Likewise, but ask yourself this: why didn’t Vonner warn you about NorthBridge? He had to know they were coming. REMies don’t wait for accidents or surprises. But I understand this is all beyond your capacity, so I’ll help you out. These things are years in the making. He might have been watching you since you were in college, maybe made some of your breaks along the way, like a fairy godfather. But he knew you’d be president, and he knew NorthBridge would be threatening to break the country apart. Why did he do that and then die, leaving you with enough money to think you could actually do something?”

&nb
sp; “You’re grasping here,” the president said, trying to pretend his head wasn’t swirling. “Oh believe me, I understand that if I look back at the history of the past century, it’s littered with MADE events, most of which I thought ‘just happened.’ But now I know they were contrived by your ilk, and even if that weren’t the case, it all happened as a result of artificial MADE events, the repercussions of which the REMies used to make even more MADE events. Aren’t you guys exhausted? Terrorist events, mass shootings, corporate scandals, sex scandals—you creatures have no shame. You’ll twist anything for profits and power.”

  “Are you done with your speech?” Titus asked with an impatient sigh. “I don’t care about your outrage and elementary understanding of how we keep the world running. I just want the killing to stop.”

  “You, yourself, just said I haven’t done much about NorthBridge, so what makes you think I can stop these killings?”

  “I’m telling you right now that if you don’t stop them, and I mean immediately, then—”

  “Then what?” the president snapped, stepping toward Coyne.

  “The REMies—surely you must know this—we’re not the sweet and gentle group of philanthropists that we may appear to be. We have all the money, all the weapons, and all the power. You don’t want us to turn our attention away from the CapStone and each other, because we will. Do you know what that would mean?” He turned, glaring at the president, and moved in even closer, so that their faces were only a few inches apart. “We’ll turn all of our fury upon NorthBridge, and you, and anyone else who thinks we can be overthrown. Believe me, Hudson, you don’t want that.”

  “Overthrown? You all really do think you’re emperors, don’t you?”

  “This isn’t a game! This is the way the world works. It’s survival of the fittest. Darwin wasn’t just talking about lizards and snakes, he was talking about REMies in the human survival story of evolution.”

  Hudson pushed a finger into Coyne’s chest. “I’m going to bring you down, Titus. I’m going to take every last dollar you have, even if it’s a trillion. Then I’m going to put you in prison, and do you know what I’m going to do next?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m going to come and visit you in your six-by-eight cell and remind you of this conversation.”

  “We’ll see,” Titus growled.

  “You know, I used to wonder how you all could keep everything secret, how no one knew about the REMies’ control and CapWars and the whole CapStone conspiracy. But then I figured it out. People do know. The REMies just do such a good job at labeling anyone who puts the pieces together as a conspiracy nut, a crackpot, or paranoid, that they make people afraid to speak out, and if someone does start taking them seriously? Oh, well sorry, the brakes fail on their car, or whoops, they have a sudden heart attack, or something even more creative. But if you think you can threaten me that way, you’re wrong. Your days are numbered whether NorthBridge assassins get you, or the FBI comes knocking on your door. One way or another, you’re almost out of time, so enjoy your caviar and gold goblets full of champagne, or whatever it is you do, because the people are going to take all of it away.”

  “You’re a fool, Hudson. A tiny little fool.”

  “If you’re so rich and powerful, why can’t you REMies figure out how to protect yourself and others from the big bad NorthBridgers?”

  “I gave you a chance,” Titus said. “Just remember, I offered you this.” He began walking away. “And we’re not talking nickels and dimes here. This is about all the tea in China, everything, reality-bending amounts of money—trillions and trillions upon trillions of dollars. What would you do for that kind of power? Ask yourself, and then imagine people willing to do whatever you come up with, a thousand times that to a magnitude of ten. It’s over, and you never even understood.”

  Coyne snatched a rose off one of the bushes and stormed away.

  Hudson didn’t move for quite a while. He wasn’t sure he could. When one of the agents started to approach, he willed himself to wave and began walking back toward the West Wing. He felt as if the ground was moving beneath him.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “This is a risky meeting,” Thorne said as the leadership of NorthBridge met in an old farm house in rural Virginia. The property had a private airstrip, was close to the nation’s capital, and had lots of privacy. “I don’t know why we couldn’t have done this over a secure video feed like usual.”

  “The Pentagon has recently put into service some new technology that is providing them a work around,” Booker said. “I’m not sure where they’re getting this equipment. It’s not from me. If I had to guess, it would be from Titus Coyne, but either way . . . ”

  “I didn’t know he owned any defense contractors,” Fonda said.

  “As far as I know, he doesn’t,” Booker said. “But he’s got connections. I think it’s a consortium based out of Germany. It may even be Russian technology. I’ve got people trying to figure out the sources. However, none of that really matters to this meeting. Right now, the time has come. We have to decide.”

  “Are we going to launch this revolution?” Fonda asked.

  “Yes,” Booker said. “Overthrow by force. All out efforts. No peace.”

  “I think it’s too soon,” AKA Adams said. “We should give the president a little more time.”

  “It’s no surprise you’re siding with him,” Thorne said. “Can you imagine what he’s going to do when he finds out your true identity?”

  AKA Adams frowned. “I’m still hoping he won’t ever find out.”

  “But if all hell breaks loose,” Thorne said, “there’s a much better chance he’s going to discover who you are. And what the hell were you thinking, releasing that statement on peace, naming the REMies, asking for help?”

  “I have the right to speak under this banner,” Adams said.

  “You shouldn’t,” Thorne said. “Not that garbage. It weakens the movement!”

  “We’ve been through this. The post did no harm,” Booker said as a trusted servant brought in refreshments. Booker typically downed two smoothies, which he called “concoctions,” a day. This one, a yerba mate power smoothie filled with one of his special blend of herbs, was a favorite.

  “It may have even brought Hudson closer to joining us,” Fonda said, sipping a cup of tulsi and ginger tea.

  “I’m not anxious for the president to find out who I am either,” AKA Franklin said, “but we’re wasting our time talking about that. We’ve already agreed it’s best that he doesn’t find out who Adams and I are. So, if he does, we’ll deal with that then, but in the meantime, that’s not what we’re here to debate.”

  “I’m just saying, Adams is against the revolution only because of the entanglements with Pound and the risks of all that not only being exposed—”

  “The entire administration could unravel,” Franklin said. “We could bring down this government.”

  “Isn’t that what we want to do?” Thorne asked.

  “I don’t think Adams is concerned only with that,” Fonda said. “What we set into motion is going to mean the deaths of thousands. If it’s handled improperly, that number will swell to hundreds of thousands. And if the REMies fight back, and we know they will, then we’re looking at millions dead because of what we decide in this room right now. So let’s forget all about the reasons why we think what we think. Adams has opposed the violent side of this revolution since the beginning, unlike you, Thorne.”

  “The risk of loss of life hasn’t stopped you from ordering some violent activities,” Thorne said to Fonda.

  “Why are you so antagonistic, Thorne? We’re on the same team. We’ve come a long way. We would never have been able to get this far if not for the diverse contributions we all bring to the table.”

  “Everyone, please,” Booker said, moving his hands across the table. “Enough.”

  “I tend to agree with Adams,” AKA Franklin said. “It’s a critical time. I think we can give the president
a few more weeks.”

  “Of course you do,” Thorne said. “I don’t know why we all had to risk getting arrested to fly here. I could’ve told you how each one of you is going to vote. Adams and Franklin, as always, want to wait. Fonda and I are willing to go ahead, although she reluctantly.” He smirked at her.

  Fonda returned his smirk.

  “And how will I vote?” Booker asked.

  “You’re always a tough one to read,” Thorne said. “But I believe you think the time is now. That’s why we’re here.”

  Booker nodded. “It’s an extremely difficult decision, but my fellow REMies are in a panic like they’ve never been before. All of them have increased their security as a result of the deaths of now seven of their members. That makes it nearly impossible to reach any of them, although we continue to try.” He glanced at Thorne. “We have reason to believe that the military is growing restless with the president, and perhaps most importantly, due to our actions over the last several years, there are a significant number of organic groups rising up, or preparing to defend themselves—preparing for some sort of apocalyptic event.”

  “Like a full-fledged revolution,” Thorne interrupted. “It’s at the boiling point.”

  “And you’ve stirred that fire,” Adams said. “You and your hundred billion listeners, or whatever it is. You’ve made sure to incite them all.”

  “That’s my job,” Thorne said. “I tell them the truth. It’s not my fault that it infuriates them. The public was asleep for too long. Don’t get mad at me for trying to wake them up.”

  “The ramifications are difficult to calculate,” Franklin said. “But AKA Jefferson is right, there could be millions dead. I believe that is most likely to occur. But beyond that, we will certainly see the complete breakdown of society. As you know, the president is working on a plan he calls ‘Fair and Free’ to replace the REMies’ central-bank empire-system. It’s a very strong, logic-based proposal that I believe can work.”